…this morning, using the blanket to rub the sleep out of my eyes. Resisting the urge to crawl right back in and continue to shake the sky scraper with my snores. But the tyres on stomach sniggered and cocked a rude finger at me, and got my goat. And plus the husband raised himself on his elbow and stared at me disapprovingly as I snuggled back into the covers. I could feel his eye drill holes into my well hidden lard and shamed into action, I lifted my creaking bones, carefully off the bed, trying hard to avoid any audible creaks. Middle age is cruel. Bones you never know you had creak when you move. And no lubricating oil is not the chocolate sauce over a hot fudge brownie.
The park was dark. Strange shadows thrown up by the dim light. A strange shadow loomed out of the blackness, I yelped and started back for the stairs to the lobby. Only to hear a respondent yelp of joy, with the resident pup bounding behind me, delighted to find another soul up as early as him, and to his doggy brain, as set to play fetch.
I shooed him off as gently as I could, namely with a tickle and a shout. And he bounded off in search of more fun people than a grouchy aunty with sleep deprivation and PMS haze. And waited for the rest of the group to troop in for the yoga class.
It was a magical moment. And it was magical to be alone in the predawn with just the faint hint of light staining the horizon. Only the mosquitoes werent paying attention to the magic of the moment and were paying attention to the magic of my blood. Much swatting and swearing later, the rest of the group dragged themselves in and the ultra perky and ultra alert sharp as nails yoga instructor made us twist our bodies into pretzels that proved to me that I was made of wood. A fact the husband long suspected in our youth whenever he tried to dance with me, a fact confirmed now, two decades down the line.
But when I was through with the class, and running back home to get the morning organised I realised there was no pain. No stretched muscles hampering movement. I could lumber along peacably. I actually felt bright and alert and sparkly and was happily wishing every six am grouch a chirpy goodmorning as I passed them.
And yes, the waistline has a slight indent again. Slight. Microscopic even. But it is definitely there. And the silhouette is not like a ship at full sail. Am delighted. Have worn a tight tee to work in acknowledgement of my delight. This after two weeks of yoga and stopping rice and needless carbs.
How has your experience been with yoga?