A childs playground for adults

There is only one place that one can choose - not only choose, but call weeks ahead in order to possibly attain an appointment. Only to go, pay, then wait for twenty minutes (if I am lucky, but more likely forty minutes) only to be called again which makes me leap up in excitement that I was called "Oh, yes, Heidi, that's me!!" Only to be led through multiple wings with random plain colored doors and made to weigh myself then led into another waiting room where I am poked and prodded for things like blood pressure and temperature.

I am left to my own devices for another twenty minutes (if I am lucky, but more likely forty minutes). Where after ten minutes, I turn into a child and get up and open drawers, look through and play with tongue depressors, thermometers, the mercury thingy on the wall. I change chairs. I look in depth at the poster on the wall depicting eyes, ears, nose and other miscellaneous body parts and their innards wondering which of the diseases depicted that I may or may not have.

After thirty minutes, I am told that the person I am coming to see, is not here yet, but I am in first in line WHEN they get here. Which makes me happy and relieved that at least I am first. But after another twenty minutes, I start to wonder - how do I really know I am first in line? I didn't even know they weren't here in the first place. The door is closed and even if I peek out (which I do) I won't see or hear anyone else because heaven knows where the nurses stand is after so many twists and turns.

I slink back into the room and sit, pondering why it is that I do this once a year (at least, if I am luck, but more likely two to three times a year). Why is it that I pay someone to sit and wait, sit and wait and then be poked and prodded and then given a prescription where I go and wait more.

When I least expect it, the magical person appears and I instantly remember why I come here, pay, wait and wait some more - because I like this doctor.

First time ever, I have walked out of a doctors office with a prescription of Valium.

Downward facing dog

Attended my first yoga class at the local gym and of course, loved it!

I have taken yoga at home before (as I have practiced, in my own manner, P90x) and I really enjoy it, but as moving to a new city can bring on the agoraphobia tendencies, I decided to GO OUT to workout. It gives me another excuse to meet people, or maybe just be around people. Not that I don't get enough of people at work, but it is different, I am different, in a relaxed setting.

Who knows, maybe I will meet some friends. Or just people I can talk to for the five minutes before and after class. That would be okay too.

I got there - a tiny bit late because I left my gym pass at home. Yes, we all roll our eyes. Hey people, it was in my hands when I left, but I had to go back and found it lying on the garage floor. I dropped it on my way out. Easy mistake.

I kicked off my shoes and socks and hung my jacket (yes, it is 6 degrees outside, I had a jacket on) and then quickly threw a mat on the floor and tried to breath like I had been there for the past five minutes. Surprisingly, it didn't take that long to get comfortable.

I am okay with almost all the basic yoga poses, except for one. TREE. I can completely fake the balance thing throughout all of yoga, but for the damn tree pose. For those not familiar with tree, stand with feet shoulder width apart, place one foot on the ankle of the other and then raise my arms out to my side and up at a 45 degree angle. Basically stand on one foot and then put my hands up. The really good yoga peeps can put their foot all the way up into their crotch.

I've tried it all - close my eyes; focus on a non-moving object; stare at myself in the mirror. I can't seem to do it for more than a second. Though tonight I figured out I last longer if I start on my left foot. Apparently, I am strong with that side and then I can manage the other side okay. It is really hard to be the one to trip others up too. The class is so peaceful, then to see someone (me) go wobbly (in the mirror) and then fall usually results in a few others, then more til the entire class has lost its balance. Hey, welcome not only the late comer, but the one with no balance. Teehee

I like that this class looks like many people around my age - above and below. I liked that this class has women of all sizes and shapes. I feel like I fit in well. They all seemed smiley, talkative and nice.

I have noticed, not so subtly that my body has changed quite a bit since I moved here. It could be that I turned 32 this year. It could be that I am eating what I want, when I want, with very few restrictions or stopping of myself. It could be that I haven't worked out in oh, geez I don't know how long. It could be that we sell Godiva chocolates at work and I have realized how easy it is to go and buy a bar. It could be that I have developed a small routine of oatmeal at home and then a coffee and scone for a mid morning snack. It could be that I have holed up a bit since I moved to a city where I don't know anyone and feel a little home sick.

I am trying to do better. I am trying to cut down on the sweets. I am trying to work fruit and veggies in my diet. I am trying to get out a little each week and walk or be around people. I am trying to do some meditative breathing. I am trying to work in positive thinking or positive visualization time.

But oh, it is so hard.

So, I joined this gym and this class.

And you know what?

It's a good feeling.

I left in tune with not only my body and my breathing, but with the city, the class and wow, is there more?

Then promptly froze my a** off while running (yes, running or more like sprinting) to my car in the 6 degree weather and wind that felt like it would tear the flesh right off my skin.