The Edge

After taking a break from working out for most of February (at least it was a short month) and not taking a break from fixating on my growing belly, I decided it was time to recommit myself to a workout routine. However, it seems as though the crowds have not tapered off at the Y and yoga, as I had hoped to occur during my hiatus.

As for the app I downloaded to my iPhone that was supposed to help me track my progress and stay motivated -- Let's just say I'm trying desperately to remember what it is called - True burn? Burn it off? Nope, I need to consult an earlier post (perhaps the one in which I set my intention for losing the newlywed 15). Somehow I thought I'd be more committed if I wrote about it and posted it for the world to see. Note to self -- apparently the world is not a major motivator.

Needless to say, that app has been about as helpful as the bar scanning app (which I never used, so one day I decided to scan the first thing I could find at the moment, a canister of Target disinfecting wipes, and shocker - it wasn't in the database, thus rendering that useless), the dictation app (y'all, southern is not one of its languages) and the wine database app (after two glasses - what app?).

Oh, I remember now -- the Daily Burn app. Of course! Well, I'm sure it would have been useful if I (a) worked out, (b) used it and (c) worked out. Did I say worked out? That's right world, way to be my motivator.

So today I am back in yoga class, which I learned has only gotten more popular with the passing month. There is now an overflow studio, which I was relegated to last week. Today I just had my little heart set on being in the regular class with "all the big kids," so I left the office early and arrived with 15 minutes to spare thinking that would surely be sufficient.

The parking lot held a lot of clues as to how this was going to go down. The normal lot was a complete mess, which I quickly abandoned for overflow (common theme, right?). I grabbed my mat and flew of my car, feet barely touching the street, nearly getting run over in my haste to beat three other people across the road and into the door. I entered the studio, almost barreling down the girl in front of me, only to be told I would be practicing in overflow - again!

It was flight or fright - I considered leaving, but I was here and I pre-registered. In a huff, I entered the studio room, first one in. I threw my mat down, cursing that this happened again. That's the spirit!

Many deep breaths later, I exhaled the disappointment out of my body like a bad spirit and made the decision to embrace this opportunity - to take myself to the edge. When I'm trying to "get back in shape," I sometimes like to hold back to minimize risk of injury. I know, completely surprising. This is probably part of the reason I can't commit to working out at the moment, because of minimal effort (although I have been known to go to extremes and over do it a little, which might have happened before to the wedding; it's a Catch-22, but isn't most of my life!?!).

Ever focused on the practice (I definitely wasn't thinking about writing this in there), I extend my arm to the ceiling in the side angle pose and pushed myself to the limit. My legs were a shaking like a dog that just got out of the water -- one leg bent in front of me and the other extended behind me with the side of my foot pressed to the mat. I couldn't control it.

But yoga is about letting go of control and in that moment, trusting your body. When you start to feel as though you are going to break, you focus on breathing to calm the body, even though you are anything but calm. I think I could hear my legs screaming.

But I pushed that noise aside, continuing to breath into the panic, continuing to stretch the pose and take it deeper. I went to the edge - didn't even have to tell myself to do it, I just did. I extend my hand higher - my little fingers outstretched like flames against the bright yellow ceiling. Sweat dripping down my face, into my eyes. Legs burning, burning, burning.

Finally, the pose ends (thank goodness). I fill my lungs and as I leave the pose, it feels like heaven. The feeling of relief, of satisfaction facing a struggle that is complete. Taking another breath, the other side. With a steady gaze (and a quick softening of the face) I went to the edge again, but this time knowing the reward of the return. 

When I was in growing up, I was a year-round amateur swimmer for Mecklenburg Aquatic Club. Our coach would talk to us about breaking through the edge and how we should strive for that feeling where you hit the wall and then suddenly, you are free. You are super human, or at least, you feel that way.

The most vivid memory I have of taking the edge to freedom during my swimming career happened in ninth grade. It was the semifinals of the high school regional championships for 4A division schools -- the 100 meter butterfly and there I was - a faux freshman (grandfathered in from junior high) among a sea of juniors and seniors.

I was seeded in an outside lane in the second to final heat, which makes me a major dark horse, and in a field of 16, one of the slowest. I took my mark and hit the water, exploding under the surface with my dolphin kick. The second I threw my head up for a breath, I knew I was on the edge of the door, waiting to open it. I took an early lead, and with every flick of my arms, in and out of the water, I left the heat behind.

I felt light as air, like a true dolphin out for a leisurely swim in the open ocean. Suddenly, I hit the pool wall - the race was over. I turned and watched everyone else finish. Astonished and in disbelief, I saw my time - 1:07. I had beaten my best time by over a minute, also beating most of the those in the final heat, and would represent Myers Park High School in the state championships at age 15.

As I pushed myself to the edge tonight, releasing fear, releasing anxiety, releasing expectations - I realize the value of breaking through that wall. I was ready to give up tonight, to walk away. How have I let myself succumb so easily to excuses and confinement of so self-built walls? When did it become so easy?

The challenge is moving the walls and using them to block the excuses and the expectations. The edge is the place the be - the reward is so much sweeter when you have gone the distance. I must continue to teeter out on the edge and trust myself that I won't fall, but that instead, I will fly.