Teacher, my legs are too long!

Let me first say, before I get going here, that I walk home from yoga. I walk there, and I walk back.

Tonight, as I composed part of this post in my head and reflected on my most recent practice that just ended, I got caught behind 4 males who had completely doused themselves in eu de Fratboy, which I believe you can pick up in the Tommy Hilfiger section of your local department store, or in the back of Abercrombie & Fitch's soft core porn shop. Take you pick. Nothing like that smell to take me back to my freshman year of college when I pledged that sorority. (in case you're wondering, I didn't last long).

Now back to my legs. Or yoga. Really, it's both.

Those of you who have seen me know that I'm not short, but what you might not know, is that my inseam is actually longer than Mr. K's. Even though he's like, 4 inches taller than me (on a good day, when I'm in flats). And nothing makes me feel like this is completely abnormal more than yoga practice.

There is this "move" or flow in yoga (tonight was hip hop vinyasa) where you "hop" your feet or move your feet up near your hands. This is generally done from a plank pose (damn, we did a lot of those tonight), so I want you to picture in your mind the physics of what must happen to move an outstretched leg from plank to, say, a low lunge. And then imagine that you have abnormally long legs. Most 'normal' gals do this with what appears to be a great amount of ease. I tend to flail a bit, slightly lose my balance and then awkwardly grab my leg and place it where it needs to be. This is sort of the extreme opposite of grace.

But before I go any further in publicly condemning my yoga practice, I have to admit that I am a competitive person. I know this might be surprising (actually, it probably isn't, because we've seen here at ramblings that competitive tendencies come with the perfectionist territory). Even though it is completely against the whole philosophy of yoga and meditation, I do find myself checking out my fellow practitioners to see just how high my hips can go compared to theirs in downward dog. Or to make sure that my pigeon (one of my favorite poses) is as low as everyone else's.

The sad thing is, none of that actually matters. My practice is, and should be, mine. And yoga, like my crazy hike at RYLA, is not about making it to the top or finishing first. It's about finding my rhythm and my strength and learning a bit about myself. Today I learned many things.

1. I am completely out of balance (can we just take a moment to think about all the times I fell over today or lost my balance? It was too many to count. So many, in fact, that I just started giggling at myself every time it happened)

2. I won the race by showing up, and I should thank for myself for providing that opportunity to myself (no matter how tight I am, or how awkward my legs were, or how sore I now am, I did good.)

3. I should live each moment without pride and without judgement. That means that if my balance is super ridiculous and nowhere near where I want it, then I should just observe. I shouldn't judge my pose or myself. Likewise, if my hips do get really high in my downward dog, or I totally nail a pose I've been working hard on, I shouldn't be proud. I should just be happy about that moment and show my body gratitude for giving me that pose.

That's some powerful stuff. Something I wish I could incorporate better into my daily workings. For example, when I do something dumb like forgetting my keys, or accidentally forgetting my lunch for the 4th day in a row, berating myself internally, choosing to skip meals as a punishment or profusely apologizing to Mr. K are unnecessary, self-destructive and unproductive. They get me nowhere, except one step closer to an ulcer or a nervous breakdown. Similarly, the pride that comes from noting that I'm often earlier to work than my office mate is also unnecessary and unproductive. His behavior is not mine, and I should really just concern myself with me, my work and my productivity, doing the best I can, regardless.

"Should" here being the operative word. I should do all these things. I should be balanced and peaceful and on top of myself. And yet I am woefully not there. I am unbalanced internally and skeletally, and I'm not sure what to do about it, except keep hacking away at it. Yoga, massage, meditation, breathing when I forget to, changes to diet and exercise patterns. Optimism and leaning on Mr. K for support. Personal growth is a painful sport!