Taking To the Air and Taking To the Ground

Last night, I had a chance to take two classes with other teachers at the studio's second and primary location.

The first class was a fun aerial yoga class with the great Kate. She brings her dance background into class and creates such an engaging and challenging class. Part of the fun is the invention and connection of asanas. There is a lot of "ok, so when I get here....what can I do next?" The whole class is so organic. Everyone gets a moment to shine and everyone gets to feel special.

The second class was aerial conditioning. It was my first time attending and it really revealed all my weaknesses. My shoulders are weak. My planks need improvement. I felt the panic of not being awesome immediately. I grunted and panted with this effort and flushed while watching the other students nail each progression. I had to start to do damage control in my head. The truth was I struggled this hard when I first started aerial yoga. None of it was easy. All of it was hard fought. This silly panic was just my fear of being left behind. And our studio leaves no one behind. I just have a lot of work ahead of me to be awesome in this adventure. It reminds me to be kind and patient with all newcomers in my classes.

This morning was perfect for a run. It was mid-40's and drizzling and 4:20am.  I tied on my Saucony, strapped on my Garmin HRM under my yoga shirt. Fleece leggings kept my legs warm to prevent cramping, reflective jacket and elastic reflective bands. Music on, Runkeeper on, Garmin on. Dog ready to go. First mile, my brain was up to it's usual doubt. It tells me that I should stop, that I'm not a runner, I can't do this. The second mile was not much better and I was getting warm, too warm. Third mile, I've got my disconnection. My legs are just eating up the sidewalk, but it's automatic, like a heartbeat. Off comes the jacket, need to cool down. The heat can be smothering. If I get too warm, my breath comes harder and my heart needs to put in extra work. Fourth mile, I start to feel a little fatigue and the brain takes this time to tell me I'm done. Go home. You have no more left in you. My brain is a liar. Last mile, I'm panting. I'm sure I'm beet red in the face. And it's over. 4.9 miles done and logged. It was another struggle of a run since I was sick for two weeks, but I am recovering. Running hair, don't care.