I don’t consider myself a demanding woman. The glass is almost always half full, the simplest pleasures are oftentimes the greatest, and life really is all about the little things. Those are my mottos. (Usually.)
But… Um, excuse me, Yoga? I have some demands of you.
Please wring out all of the alcohol I consumed this past weekend. Yes, all those beers, those vodka tonics, those vodka sodas, oh and the 900 “Life Is Good” cocktails my girlfriends and I sucked down like water. Also, if you squeeze out the five gallons of salt water I accidentally guzzled while riding waves, swimming, and splashing around like a five year old, I’d greatly appreciate it.
Please squeeze out the ridiculous amounts of lactic acid coursing through my muscles right now, thanks to laughing for hours, bike-riding close to 20 miles, running on the beach, diving through surf, playing ocean Frisbee, scaling fences, shaking my booty (on the dance floor and, yes, on stage, too), throwing horseshoes, sitting in beach chairs, squishing too many people into too-small cars, and laying on rock-hard sand. I hurt, all over, “from coxis to toes.” I’m bruised and sore and stiff. Help.
Please sweat out the toxins I took in, from the booze to the burgers to the hot dogs to the cupcakes, from the croissants to the coffee cake to the Cape Cod chips to the candy. In the last four days, I ate more bad food than they sell in your local 7-Eleven. Sweat it out of me, I beg you!!
Please steady me, as I stare down a long post-vacation to-do list.
Please forgive me for ignoring you, for going away for so many days, for stretching in the sun rather than in the studio.
It was a gloriously fun, relaxing, hilarious, indulgent, busy, and bountiful weekend, and I soaked up every second of it. I feasted, on my friends’ laughter and stories, on the island’s plentiful array of food and drink, and on the ocean’s cold and salted company. Not a moment wasted, not a minute spared.
And while I absolutely love (and need) mini vacations like this, I also pay dearly for them, physically and mentally. Part of me is downright petrified to hit the 6 p.m. yoga class today. (How much will it hurt??) Another part of me can’t wait. (Ohhh, how good it will feel!)
But, that’s the way it goes, right?
We yank ourselves apart and then begin the slow recovery, the dutiful process of putting all the pieces in place again.
Let’s pause, please, for just a second, and wish me luck, though. I have a feeling I’m gonna’ need it.