I stopped running. I did get better, for those of you thinking about trying the little-by-little time increases, that method did help to finally run the half hour, but I never reached that runner's stride. ::Cue the runners of the world yelling, "it doesn't happen in 30 minutes, amateur.":: Well, 30 minutes of my lady humps bouncing everywhere, and I am done waiting for euphoria. We can check that off the bucket list anyway.
I started hot yoga. I love it. In early May I met the owner of a studio just down the street from my office. She had a gorgeous yoga body that any girl would want, and she was old enough to be my mother. I had to check it out. 90 minutes of yoga poses in a 105 degree room. I'm an Arizona native, I can handle that. I went to my first class and found I was more of a novice than I had planned. I had to sit down...a few times...lest I die. I went back again, same thing. I kept going back. Before I knew it, I didn't need to sit down anymore, and I was holding the poses a little bit longer, and a little bit stronger. I often talked with the owner after class; sometimes for 5 minutes, sometimes for an hour: about yoga, about life. She was so incredibly encouraging to me. She believed in my practice and made me feel at home in her studio, even among the 10-year yogis. Tragically, two months after I began yoga with her, she suffered a brain aneurysm and passed on. I was filled with grief though we had such a short time together. But I went back to class. We all did. The 10 year yogis and the brand new hatchlings. Gathering together in the room full of emotion and support and we did our practice--her practice. I immediately missed her voice leading us through the poses, encouraging us to push ourselves, to go further. Since her untimely passing, the other instructors have rallied together to keep her studio and her dream alive. I continue to go, and to love it there. We honor ourselves, each other, and her life's work while we practice. I have seen a tremendous change in my body. I feel a re-connection with myself and the people around me. The difference from one day to the next is so tiny it is hard to tell, but over a month or three, I have obtained such an appreciation for my own strength and what my body and mind are capable of. I wasn't built for running...but maybe I was built for yoga (aren't we all).
I discovered I have a wheat allergy. I don't know if it is gluten as a whole or just wheat, I have more research to do on that subject. But, gluten free foods are obviously safe from wheat, so it's a good place to start. I have fought the good fight with my skin for most of my life. It was recently suggested to me that wheat was the culprit. So I dropped it and voila, the welts that ever kissed my skin disappeared. This also means a big change to the way I approach food. The way I make it, the products I buy, and where I will eat. Wheat is in everything. If it comes in a box, there's probably wheat in it. Things you would never think of...sausage, soy sauce, flavoring on chips/nuts/sunflower seeds...it's endless. I've been playing a lot in the kitchen these past few weeks, trying to make wheat free versions of this and that. Some with fantastic outcomes, some that go straight in the trash. Ah, the joy of discovery. With that in mind, I would like to start sharing things on here that DO work wheat free--things I make, things I find. I'll also let you know what I don't like. I went on a certain popular gluten free recipe cite >that shall remain nameless< and followed a recipe for yellow cake to see how it turned out. YUCK. Let me just say...it is hard enough not eating pizza and bagels; people who don't eat wheat shouldn't be punished to a lifetime of gross food. I pledge to never do that to you. I've already found some great stuff that makes the wheat-free life totally doable. But, I also still enjoy making things with wheat in them, for the people I love, because the joy of cooking is not in the eating; it's the love that goes into making it, the sharing, and all those ooey gooey sentiments. So, I will post about both.
I went to Rocky Pointe! It was a great Memorial Day getaway with some girlfriends in the sand and sun. We stayed at Las Palomas Resort, which is part of a handful of high rises on the beach that come out of nowhere after a long drive in from the border. We sunbathed, took advantage of the swim-up bar, attended a free cookout, stopped by JJ's Cantina, walked the tide pools and relaxed. We didn't do much else, which was just right for a vacay.
My friend had a birthday party two weeks ago with the theme "I'm Glad I'm Not..." Naturally, I went as an Arizona State University Student. :)
I don't remember the last time a week has gone by where someone on Facebook wasn't getting engaged, posting wedding photos, or having babies. New beginnings everywhere I look. The latest I wasn't ready for: my first friend divorce. Am I old enough to have a divorced friend? I work at a Family Law firm, so divorce is a daily reality I deal with, but I suppose somehow I still have that hope that it won't be me or my friends or the people I care about. They will live happily ever after. But I've also learned, that sometimes happily ever after means doing something else, and closing the door on something that was good once upon a time. Some people come in to sign their final papers and cry, but some people come in and are reborn, given a new lease on life. I like to think even the people who are initially sad eventually get to that new lease on life place. New beginnings show up in different ways. Appropriately, I have had "Feelin Good" stuck in my head for a good week now.
Work has been busy busy. In this terrible economy, I'm one of the lucky ones: I have a job, where I get to use my brain, am encouraged to create, and am surrounded by an incredible group of people. Some of the things I come across are really unbelievable. I do often contemplate writing a collection of things I hear from clients, maybe call it Memoirs of a Paralegal, just because I can't make this stuff up and crazy shit really does happen to everyday people. Maybe I'll share some thoughts on here until I can find a publisher willing to take on such a project.
We will talk again soon. This time not so long.
