This year, one of my resolutions was to commit to some form of consistent movement. I wasn’t married to the form it would manifest in (I started casually rock climbing and running last year, and figured it might be one of those). But after my first free hot yoga class this January in the brutal freeze of my first real winter, I felt like I came out as a newborn baby. Wanting to experience that rush again and again, I found myself signing up for a yoga membership in April. I went two to three times a week, and started to understand the space it provided to slow down, disconnect from the outside, and grow mentally, physically, and spiritually. During this spring, I tapped into a sense self-discipline that perhaps has only developed upon my prefrontal cortex nearing its full maturation: I realized that the hardest part of yoga was simply showing up.
Following a move mid-June, some personal crises, and my discontentment with the plastic of corporate yoga, I switched studios mid-July, starting a two-week unlimited membership at a small local studio. Then, I was empowered by my crises to take full advantage of the two-week package; I went to a class every day. I felt like I had reached new heights of insanity. The last time I did some kind of disciplined movement every day was in my high school marching band days. Still, as soon as I got going, I couldn’t stop (now, it seems to me, echoing the cult of marching band). The studio was so welcoming, the movement was accessible, and I felt strong and happy in a way I hadn’t felt before.
So following some travel and hosting family in town, I knew I wanted to commit to the studio’s 30-day yoga challenge. Though I have never practiced movement so consistently before, I felt like at the time, it was well within my ability to achieve it. And the hardest part — showing up — was hardly an obstacle with this new studio, as it was a 6-minute walk from my apartment. It was quite a journey to get through, but here are some logs from the past month!
week 1
Following the incredibly dangerous hike I accidentally went on during the last day of September (maybe more on that in another post), I ran into my Sunday Yin class to restore my legs that had stiffened from exertion (and fear for my life). Through the end of September, I checked in to a flurry of hot yoga classes and would find myself slowly becoming more and more sore by the end of the week.
That’s one of the things I’ve loved about my yoga classes: one session is not going to decommission you for the rest of the week, but you are certainly getting stronger along the way. Still, I learned that I needed to listen to my body if I was going to make it all the way through this challenge, and rest accordingly.
The Yin classes, which consist of restorative postures that strengthen the joints and release the muscles, were a welcome addition to my Sunday ritual (along with a nice warm bath thereafter). It helps me start fresh for a new slate of hot yoga classes during the week, a mix of the more variable Vinyasa classes and the fixed Bikram routine. Mid-week, one of my teachers recommended coconut water to help replenish the electrolytes lost from sweating in the hot room (something I do profusely). Right after, I may have developed a short-term reliance on coconut water.
week 2
Speaking of classes that decommission you for the week, during the Sunday of week 2 I attended a free workout class (sponsored by work) at solidcore. The class thoroughly tested my core, which I new was weak already, and soon after the session ended I figured that I would not be making it into the hot room this week at all. This was mostly true: I spent half of this week doing the non-heated classes, and did three Yin sessions to try to free myself from the extreme inconvenience of not being able to get up from lying down on the couch.
Still, I ended up in the hot room on Tuesday, my most sore day of the week. Determined to show up every day, I decided that despite my evening plans, I would wake up at 5:30am to head to the 6:30am class. Despite my disbelief of the person I had become, I weakly moved through the session, still incredibly rigid from Sunday’s effects. Luckily, by my birthday on Thursday, I felt much more agile, and attended a wonderful Bhakti class complete with devotional chanting — a very peaceful way to welcome my solar return.
This week, I also read Yoga Mythology by Matthew Rulli and Devdutt Pattanaik. Inspired by the BIPOC yoga classes at the studio, which delve into the myths of the asanas and their roots in Indian mythology, I wanted to read deeper into the symbolism behind each pose and the values they teach, incorporating it into my meditation and intention-setting during my practice.
week 3
Though week 2 felt more difficult to get through due to the longer Yin classes and my lack of mobility, by week 3 I felt like I saw the light at the end of the tunnel; I had already made my way halfway through, and so I might as well finish it out.
I got the chance to try new classes this week, as I worked around some plans with friends and work. My return to the hot room on Monday for a 90-minute Bikram session was truly the most miserable I had felt in the studio. The combination of heavy rain turning the room into a 105-degree humidity trap with my absence from the hot room during the previous week led my body to cry metaphorical tears. I felt dizzy halfway through the session, and tried to summon as much will to finish the class out, while also being compassionate to my body and its limitations.
Still, I think that Monday class was a hallmark of so much that yoga has taught me with respect to rest. In a society that conditions us to chase achievement, we sacrifice our downtime for action. That day in class, I chose to forgo action many times where I may have been able to push myself, yet phone in an action. That weekend, I also stayed in, declined plans, and opted to slow down instead of speeding up in places where my life didn’t need it.
week 4
Perhaps the easiest week of the lot, I saw my class schedule as a rhythm rather than a to-do. I started to feel thankful for how much this practice has brought awareness to my structures of thinking that need undoing. Over all, it is simply a safe place to be and I was elated by the opportunities I had this week to bring my friends into the studio with me.
This week, I had a tough conversation with my manager, and noticed myself shaking and shallowly breathing. In that moment, I took the space to do pranayama, or my breath practice, that I did every day in yoga. Though I’ve tried to focus on my breath in stressful situations before, I found that it never quieted my body quickly, until now. I was shocked at how my breath effectively communicated to my body that it was safe and that it could relax, from a practice that I perform in peaceful situations. It was almost like a path had been cleared between my mind and body, one where messages could quickly travel; and I had no idea that I was developing it for times like these!
final thoughts
Though since July I have fully adjusted to the cadence of daily yoga in my life as a certainty, it’s hard to deny how changed I have become while looking back to the beginning of this month. I am more rooted in my truth and values, more compassionate to myself and others, and more attuned to my responses when fear and resentment bubble up.
Spiritually, I feel more grounded and connected, not just to the power within myself, but to the power in others. It was hard to feel lonely in the yoga community, and I was embraced by the teachers, who were genuinely invested in my growth throughout the month, and the patrons, who I would regularly see at common classes.
Physically, I feel transformed. Early in the month, I walked up five flights of stairs to my apartment without getting winded, and I was truly astounded that my body could actually do something like that. I was proudest of my balancing ability improving throughout the month. I ended the month with tight hips (most likely due to a final sprint of hot room classes) and very flexible hamstrings (due to a large amount of half splits through the course of the month). I can even hold crow pose for 3 seconds!
Mentally, I feel more confident and at peace. Beyond utilizing breathwork as means to calm myself down, showing up to practice every day has also helped regulated my nervous system between the demands of work and school. It has become extremely important to me to not let the frustrations of any project weigh down my mental state, because I can almost immediately feel it physically. I’ve been working on learning how to walk away from a problem and come back, and this practice has been helping me with that discipline. Above all, I feel rooted in myself in a way that I haven’t felt in a while, and hope to continue that in the face of the next season of changes and external forces.
I’m looking forward to taking a break from practice, just to give my schedule some breathing room. The hard part is easing my grip on something I’ve come to love. Maybe the time off will let me stock up on some more dry shampoo and give me a minute to figure out how to put up my long hair during practice. Until next time!