The Yoga Room

It’s been two days since I dislocated my shoulder and I still can barely get dressed – I went out for practice on Sunday with a few friends at a track new to me known as “the fox pen,” in Williston where the trees were so tight between my handlebars that it took me an entire 5-mile lap to remember how to ride again (plus, it was about 40 degrees and I hadn’t ridden in three weeks.) Then, on the second lap, once it all started coming back to me and I was able to get into “attack mode,” I smacked my barkbuster against one hard enough to pop my right shoulder out of socket and I had to stop and pop it back in before continuing. I did all that without crashing! So I’m pretty sure I won’t be making my 80-minute hot yoga class tonight, which is a bummer because the rest of my body could really use it. Last week’s Tuesday night sweat session had me crying by Savasana, the final resting pose. But I wasn’t sad, I was relieved and those were happy tears.

So it starts working on the backlog, trying to sort through some of that old mess, so you can finally unclutter your innermost being. Things you haven’t thought about in years suddenly rise up in Warrior II, and you can’t stop crying in Savasana because you’re infinitely sad and have no idea why. – What Nobody Tells You About Yoga

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