Mondays

Tonight, I went to a yoga class after work.

I'm lucky enough to live near a gym that has 10 kinds of yoga classes. Okay, perhaps not 10, but enough flavors to keep me busy for a while. Reading the schedule is like reading a take-out menu. There is Vinyasa, and Hatha, and Ashtanga. The only thing missing was the Tikka Masala.

After an initial chorus of 'Oms', there was Downward Dog, and Turtle, and Eagle. There was adult Cobra, baby cobra and a shoulderstand.

'Now, put your hands behind your feet and lean forward. If you can, touch your forehead to the floor.'

Um...you want me to do what????

I worked up a sweat and came close to flopping over many times. Now curled up on the couch with the cat, I am warm, relaxed and great.




Mondays are not easy. Hell, living in New York is not easy. Just the commute is tough. You rarely get a seat on the train. Then you manage to get out of the train, you have to stumble up a flight or two of stairs to get to the open air, to battle the elements (the heat, the humidity, the rain, the wind).

Then you're thrown onto conference calls where you're supposed to know all the answers, or the people who can get you answers. You're bombarded with emails (and faxes, and phone calls, and meetings) all day. You have to decide between a ten-dollar lunch and one that's cheaper, but less healthy. Then in the afternoon, there's more of the same. This city is not by nature a kind or gentle place.

Anyway, this whole gym thing is my way to being kind and gentle to myself. It's tough love - lifting weights, time on the elliptical machine, yoga class. It's also a way to prevent myself from staying too late in the office.

The office has my blood and guts already. They can't have all of me.


Photos from the internets.