Thursdays are weigh-in days for the office weight loss challenge. What that translates to for me is a feeding-frenzy, throw-caution-to-the-wind kind of day after tipping the scales in the morning. Loosening the calorie boundaries even further, bordering on reckless abandon, Thursday is also yoga day. With the day overflowing in peace, harmony, and gluttony, I’ve nicknamed the day Guiltless Thursday.
By the afternoon yoga class, I’d added extra girth around my middle. You don’t want to know more than that. It’s like mince meat. Does anyone really want to know what’s in that pie? Dawn, the fresh-as-a-morning-breeze instructor, suggested a shoulder stand. First of all, I could hardly get my rear-end off the ground. Blame it on the donut. Okay, donuts. Once my legs finally made it over my head, I spied three rolls. I could hardly breathe. Thank heavens, one of the rolls was my boobs, but the other two were foreign to me and in close competition in size with the boobs.
BTW (if you are old like me, this stands for “by the way”), this picture is NOT me. Obviously this picture would have to have been taken on Wednesday, before the extra roll around the middle. (Besides, I don’t have a tattoo on my ankle. Maybe another blog down the road.)
“Slowly release your legs over your head,” instructs Dawn, “one vertebra at a time.” Slowly is used relatively. Relative to a heavy object falling from a second story window. Dawn then invites us to try the fish pose to counter the bend in our back during the shoulder stand. I couldn’t help myself, my face leaned back and my mouth opened and closed like a fish at meal time. That’s the same face my little sixteen-month-old grandson, the Mouse, makes on cue. He doesn’t talk, not one word. No doggie noises, no kitty noises, no piggy noises. My daughter, the GAP, doesn’t want to be outdone by moms of precocious toddlers, so she’s taught him the “fish face.” When a mom says, “Ryan, what does a doggie say?” and the kid barks, the GAP can proudly say, “What does a fishy say?” and the Mouse does his thing.
This morning, I weighed and I’d gained three pounds. There is no guiltless any day. You are what you eat. I look like a jelly donut — round and gelatinous. It’ll take the rest of the week to lose what I gained in one gluttonous Thursday.
- Two Twix workout
- Oh, the wonderful things a tennis ball can do
- What’s an imbalanced person like me doing yoga?
- Purple crayons
- The reluctant draggin’