i'll be the first to admit it: i am one of the biggest spazzoids i know. whether i am tearing through residential neighborhoods at excessive speeds, hauling ass down the crowded sidewalks of boston to make it to work on time, or struggling to keep my keep it together whilst living at home this summer, my sanity always has one foot out the door. i know it's just waiting for the perfect moment to peace out on me, rendering me a sobbing, twitching mess for the public's scrutinizing eye to fall upon and judge the shit out of. god only knows what my fate would be if i drank coffee.
after about a month of schlubbing around the house, i decided that i needed to do something about my far-from-normal state of mind. i enlisted my good friend and fellow shaws alum jeff to plunk down the plastic and join a nearby gym. i figured that a few days a week sweating to (and with, as the case so often was) the oldies would be just what i needed to stabilize and eliminate my all too frequent brainfarts. also, the protrusion of my gut was starting to rival that of my chest. and while the size of my funbags aren't something to brag about, the fact that my six-pack from days of yore had vanished irritated me like the impending hanson comeback. yeah..mmmbop this.
it wasn't until halfway through the second week of my workout regime that i realized that my gym offered (gasp!) free-of-charge yoga classes in addition to the plethora of ellipticals and free weights housed within its walls. though i am a big fan of pilates, i had always been skeptical of its equally flexible cousin. i didn't want to turn into a tree-hugging, granola-eating, peace-and-love, i-don't-believe-in-razors kinda lady..but the thought of an entire hour of solitude and potential incense burning appealed to my frazzled nerves. armed with my squishy pink mat and icy poland springs, i semi-openmindedly entered the studio.
the next thing i knew, i was downward-facing doging all over the place (your mind = in the gutter..get it out..pronto). i was all about the warrior 2 and was known to rock out a pretty nasty reverse triangle at a moment's notice. this curious venture soon became a mini-obsession. if i didn't harness my chi at least three times a week, i just didn't feel right. it didn't matter if i was sun salutationing, bridge-posing, or attempting the nearly impossible crane, the artist formerly known as my strung-out self had become just another one-hit wonder instead of multi-platinum legend hall of fame inductee. after a semester of more downs than ups and questions than answers, i felt more like myself than i think i ever have. plus, how many people do you know that can put both feet behind their head without needing medical assistance to reverse the same action? think about it and report back. i'll wait.
now as i sit here, munching on a nature's valley and contemplating how i can help the starving orphans in calcutta, i am actually embracing the fact that i've become kind of crunchy. key words: kind of. i still step on ants with no fear of karma biting back and hock the occasional flavorless piece of gum out the window. i can't curb my potty mouth and don't always bless people when they sneeze. i also can't bear much more than a quarter inch of stubble. regardless of those trivial diffs, i think we can all agree on one thing: my ass looks great in yoga pants. ch-check it out. ok, enough..no need to leer.
..namaste..or whatever,
lex
after about a month of schlubbing around the house, i decided that i needed to do something about my far-from-normal state of mind. i enlisted my good friend and fellow shaws alum jeff to plunk down the plastic and join a nearby gym. i figured that a few days a week sweating to (and with, as the case so often was) the oldies would be just what i needed to stabilize and eliminate my all too frequent brainfarts. also, the protrusion of my gut was starting to rival that of my chest. and while the size of my funbags aren't something to brag about, the fact that my six-pack from days of yore had vanished irritated me like the impending hanson comeback. yeah..mmmbop this.
it wasn't until halfway through the second week of my workout regime that i realized that my gym offered (gasp!) free-of-charge yoga classes in addition to the plethora of ellipticals and free weights housed within its walls. though i am a big fan of pilates, i had always been skeptical of its equally flexible cousin. i didn't want to turn into a tree-hugging, granola-eating, peace-and-love, i-don't-believe-in-razors kinda lady..but the thought of an entire hour of solitude and potential incense burning appealed to my frazzled nerves. armed with my squishy pink mat and icy poland springs, i semi-openmindedly entered the studio.
the next thing i knew, i was downward-facing doging all over the place (your mind = in the gutter..get it out..pronto). i was all about the warrior 2 and was known to rock out a pretty nasty reverse triangle at a moment's notice. this curious venture soon became a mini-obsession. if i didn't harness my chi at least three times a week, i just didn't feel right. it didn't matter if i was sun salutationing, bridge-posing, or attempting the nearly impossible crane, the artist formerly known as my strung-out self had become just another one-hit wonder instead of multi-platinum legend hall of fame inductee. after a semester of more downs than ups and questions than answers, i felt more like myself than i think i ever have. plus, how many people do you know that can put both feet behind their head without needing medical assistance to reverse the same action? think about it and report back. i'll wait.
now as i sit here, munching on a nature's valley and contemplating how i can help the starving orphans in calcutta, i am actually embracing the fact that i've become kind of crunchy. key words: kind of. i still step on ants with no fear of karma biting back and hock the occasional flavorless piece of gum out the window. i can't curb my potty mouth and don't always bless people when they sneeze. i also can't bear much more than a quarter inch of stubble. regardless of those trivial diffs, i think we can all agree on one thing: my ass looks great in yoga pants. ch-check it out. ok, enough..no need to leer.
..namaste..or whatever,
lex
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