bikram

so that nearly killed me. i don't lead a terribly strenuous life and so today, accompanying my mother to some exercise, i didn't expect to come close to losing consciousness and need to sit down for extended periods of time. that was CRAZY.

i strained and slipped and could not hold my body together, i did not remember to breathe for the pain and difficulty of it all, the breathing exercises exhausted me. i really didn't take this thing seriously, hubris is life threatening in that room.

one bizarre thing was the constant folksy patter of the teacher, who had a shaved, brightly dyed strip of hair like a headband. and so, as we were getting in touch with our bodies, with our breathing, with perfect, blank exhaustion, that auctioneering talk carried us through, as if in the depths of my soul were narrated by the selling of old silverware and bad, bad jokes.

dripping, dripping dripping, when we lay down my ears were drowning in salt, the rug, the mat was enormously salty. should eat potato chips.

my mom did great.

i went back again two days after. it was much better, still painful. when we did the pose where you dig your fingers in under your feet and try to push your knees straight, i felt like i was strangling in my leg hair.

it's a place where if you forget to breathe you start yawning, gigantically and involuntarily, in order to gulp it in. the nasal breathing they want from you did not suffice for my whale thirst. you're desperate in there.

and the thing is i don't even know if im doing any of it correctly. i feel like i did better this past time, but it could be that i didn't do what i was supposed to. in bsaeball it was always hard to concentrate on twisting your foot, locking the shoulders, eye on the ball. in this place, the shifting of the weight, the breathing, simply trying to keep my eyes open is gigantically taxing.