This morning was my first yoga class in weeks and it was absolutely fabulous.
On my vacation to various humid cities and towns, I did little running (running isn’t so fun when sweat drips into your eyes before you even press start on the ipod), and no yoga (though we had one amazing hotel room–a surprise upgrade–that would have allowed the entire yoga class to fit comfortably). We did do lots of walking as one does in Big Cities: I wasn’t entirely a slug. (We also did lots of eating–yummy lobster and buttered corn on the cob– and drinking of various newfangled cocktails and wine, resulting in a net weight gain despite hours of walking.)
So, I was a bit nervous about returning to yoga, out of shape, not at all limber (walking on hot sand, hot city streets, and on cold museum floors is psychically rewarding but it isn’t exactly relaxing to one’s leg muscles).
But it was if I had spent the last three + weeks preparing for yoga. I did every move with grace and strength, even those balancing on one foot moves (yes, I do know the names of the moves when she says them, but I have absolutely no recall once out of the room).
As a result, this post-vacation week has redeemed from mildly depressing and stressful with the very long to-do list, to one of peace and relaxation and look fowardedness to a new academic year.