Charlie Horses and Yogis. (Or Yoginis, in my case)

Sorry my dear audience. For I have not made your mailbox ‘ding’ in the past few days… 

Here; 

Let me catch up..

One thing I love about myself today is: (March 14, 2013) I can’t really remember if anything really stuck out for me- Oh yes actually… I gave my bank account a good right hook at Opus. I fed my Silkscreen curiosity by buying special inks. Now I am one step closer to turning my bedroom/studio into a SILKSCREEN GENIUS FACTORY. 

One thing I love about myself today is: (March 15, 2013) Totally love how my butt looks in my blue yoga capris. I truly do feel beautiful working up a sweat at the yoga studio. I must remind myself that leggings are more flattering than sweatpants… Daily. 

One thing I love about myself today is: (March 16, 2013) I survived a morning Hot Core Yoga class… the instructor had abs you grate cheese off of, and chose to play Led Zepplin. Not sure if she noticed my lack of ab strength as I drowned in my sweat. Every time I looked between my legs whilst in  downward facing dog I got a glimpse of this middle aged man just rocking every asana as if it was peanuts; he then added a headstand or two, because you know, that’s what people do on Saturday mornings. Almost did a face plant during downward facing dog from all the sweat I was producing. (ahem, any man who is cringing- women have sweat glands too) BUT I DID NOT GIVE UP.

 

Happy St. Patty’s day – as a ginger- I actually did not get pigeoned-holed into irish jokes- first time in a long time I must say. I even wore green to my yoga class- nobody knew it was my sleep shirt… it wasn’t that obvious. 

All my other green clothing- including the green underwear I usually save for this specific day- was in the laundry basket. 

Today was Vinyasa Flow class- and lets just say- these past few days of yoga are catching up to my quads. The class started out pretty strong- I was confident- until it came to the deep warrior two lunge. I usually do these no problem but today – I exhaled going deeper into the lunge then all of the sudden. 

CHARLIE HORSE. 

not just a “he he he I just punched you in the leg” 

no 

it was a 

MAN DOWN MAN DOWN MAN DOWWWWN 

MEDDDDDDIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC. 

I was frozen in pain, trying not to fall over and swear while rolling into a ball. 

I slowly came out of the pose- trying to look all composed while really inside all that I could process was…

JESUS MURPHY. 

no

really it was FUCK. 

But if you imagine a ginger screaming “JESUS MURPHY” in an irish accent; it really is entertaining. 

it was a series of asanas- so from the lunge we then bent even deeper, resting our upper bodies on the floor while in the lunge- then slipped arm under leg and then do this twisty thing and become a magical pretzel.

I should know the sanskrit term- but I was so focused on the silent screams my legs where emulating my mind was not functioning correctly. 

I recovered

eventually. 

the class went well- though my left quad reminded me throughout the rest of the session to not push it. 

Even as I sit on my bed typing on my laptop- my quad is growling at me. 

like a very very very pissed off cat. 

Tomorrow is my last class of Silkscreen at ECUAD. *sad face* 

One thing I love about myself today is: I love how I feel when I take care of my body and mind. IBS and Depression side effects seem to go away when I step onto my yoga mat. The studio has now become my Oasis. 

 

Goodnight Lovelies xx 

 

 

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How many letters in the alphabet? – Self love and mirrors.

Greetings- 

I have a confession to make… 

So my driver’s license says I am a mere 110 pounds. 

I giggle at this because when I registered for my license I was asked how much I weighed, and frankly I had no clue- I’ve never had a scale, and the last time I was weighed while at the doctor’s I remember blocking out the number. 

I knew I was not 110 pounds thats for sure. 

I remember the kind smile the lady gave me, chirping “you don’t look over 110 pounds!”

Sure, lets put 110 pounds on my license.

I would like to say weight has never been an issue in my life, but that would be lying, and of course I am not a lier. Right?

Just don’t look at my license.

I have always found it stupid to obsess over a number. Who cares what the scale says if you’re healthy, fit, and happy? 

Well- here is the kid who never weighs herself- struggling with health, fitness and happiness. 

Go figure. 

Since graduating from high school and moving to Vancouver, I have struggled with my weight. Here is a few reasons I think why, well how about an alphabet of reasons why…

A. Everything is expensive as fuck in Vancouver. – $20 dollar yoga class- WHAT?

B. I am not that talented that I can qualify for a college/university/rec sports team- anybody who says otherwise just be quiet- I know this. I would be beaten alive on a college basketball court. Don’t try and be nice while I’m having an honest moment with myself.

C. Fast Food. NOM NOM NOM. – even if it is just an “occasional french fry” it adds up…

D. North Vancouver is pretty much one big hill- not the greatest motivation for knee/back injury…

E. My landlord and roommate are very kind people who make me cookies, squares, and cook very high carb, high fat. -I grew up with vegetables from the neighbour’s garden…So I think my metabolism went into shock after the first sunday of fried eggs and bacon.

F. Anti-depressants and Birth control are known to contribute to weight gain. 

E. I don’t have a dog to run with. 😦 

F. All these Lululemon tight assed women jogging on the seawall are downright intimidating. There. I said it. 

G. Running in a city- so not my forte. 

H. My workout clothes now make me look down right ghastly. 

I. Concussions and hyper mobility really hold me back from trying new sports.

J. I can be lazy- somedays my lunch will include cookies with apricot jam. I like apricot jam okay?

K. Depression really makes it hard to motivate yourself at times. 

L. IBS attacks during yoga class- embarrassing and awkward. Not to mention panic attack inducing when the only bathrooms there are public ones with no privacy.

M. Can I blame the winter season? Sure. Why not. That rain was very discouraging.

N. Men found me attractive, – weight not as big a deal when hitting on women as it was in High school it seems? Who knows. Maybe I just met mature gentlemen in Vancouver, who like curvy women.

O. I didn’t realize how much weight I gained until it was too late- yoga school added with constantly wearing yoga pants makes you think you look FINE. 

P. Lemon Squares

Q. Baggy Tops- my shield from my self criticism about my muffin top.

R. Only having evening classes – no routine – 3 am bedtimes, etc.

S. Corn chips. Damn bastards.

T. Eating the same amount as when I was training for half marathons… And not training for half marathons… Oops.

U. Being a lazy teenager.

V. Reassuring myself that yoga was enough. 

W. Blaming my tummy fat on bloating from IBS. (most likely is both)

X. Not getting a monthly wax – I can’t afford it anymore now that I live in the city… But it was a real confidence booster- no matter how painful it was. -anyone who gets waxed will understand!

Y. I’m not as stressed or depressed as I was, which means I am eating more.

Z. I keep comparing myself to myself a few years ago- a very sick, unhappy girl who struggled with eating anything. I thought I was fat then! Jesus. 

Even with this whole boat load of excuses- I still want to try to get back in shape. 

About a month ago I injured my back- inflamed disc and sciatica. 

Once again I had to be weighed- and oh dear god I did not like the number that popped up on the scale. 

For months I kept telling myself- I’ll start tomorrow. 

Hah, of course that never happened. 

It is March now- and I am at the point where I am sick of the sight of my body.

It is like one big “to-do list” that well, has been put off.

Your body is your temple right? 

Well- this temple had been on the back burner for way too long. Now it has weak beams, dull wallpaper, dirty dishes, and a thicker middle. 

I have recently finished my Yoga teacher training- and while I am happy I have completed that adventure- I feel I am left like a bit of a poser. 

I try to teach my students self acceptance when I myself struggle with the concept. 

My roommate used to laugh at how I would gently bring my students into a deep meditation, using positive affirmations, always repeating the need for loving yourself. 

This cool, calm, self loving yogini who is flexible yadda yadda yadda- yeah my Roommate saw right through that. 

There are things I love about me, of course there is. 

My tummy- is not one of them. 

Everybody has there hangups- so really I don’t expect this post to get many views, 

I expect it to get the occasional scroll down, a sniff, and then back to youtubing cat videos. 

But that is not the reason I chose to write this. I am experimenting. Maybe if I document my progress- it will be easier to stay on track? 

We will see. 

Tonight I made a “Fitspiration” board on Pinterest- it is still in the works- but I read an article in Cosmopolitan magazine about how detrimental this new trend of “thinspiration” boards really is. That unachievable image of thigh gaps, collarbones, and huge knockers. 

I want my students to know that i am human, personable, and not egotisical. But really- couldn’t I be a little bit more of a better person than I already am? 

Like- Can I be able to wear all of my jeans? Not just my fat pant jeans? 

I want to become a role model for my students- and honestly it wouldn’t feel right to campaign for self love when I furrow my brows every morning at the full length mirror when I step into the shower. -Note to self. Don’t install a mirror at that angle- very unflattering if you’re not in shape. 

I struggle with negative thoughts. So really this could not be as big of a deal as it seems to be, but for me it is a big deal at the moment, because when my confidence level is up- my depression level goes down, my ibs symptoms go down, and my happiness becomes an everyday event. That would be a nice thing. 

To the jeans that now sit ever so lonely in the back of my closet. Waiting for me to get my ass in gear and do something, I will be wearing you eventually- because I can’t afford to buy bigger clothes. I’m too cheap and stubborn to do that.

I’ve also been saving my gift cards from friends and family I got during the Christmas holidays because I would keep telling myself- You can buy new lingerie when you’ve lost a few pounds. 

Well, I would like to have new underwear by my next birthday. Go ahead and laugh- but when you’re rocking beautiful awesome underwear- not to mention matching- You feel pretty damn special.

Was that TMI? 

Too bad. 

So I don’t have a diet plan, I don’t have a fitness plan, at least not one that is written on some website or found in a running magazine. 

I plan to: 

eat right

exercise more

and begin to love myself a little more every day- every single flaw included! 

This is not just another attempt to lose weight- it is more. To live the life I want to live- I have to learn how to love myself, and accept what the universe has given me in this lifetime. – That does not mean I will quit shaving my armpits or tattoo a third eye on my forehead. Friends and family- do not worry. I am just trying to become the best possible me I can be. 🙂 

That’s my plan. 

So. 

One thing that I love about myself today is: 

I completed an “extreme” level sudoku today. 

Actually I completed three of them. 

I love my smart moments.

 

Goodnight lovelies, 

 

P.S. here is my Fitspiration page on Pinterest!

http://pinterest.com/anniesgirl/fitspiration/

and my Fitness page for workouts and more inspiration- 

http://pinterest.com/anniesgirl/fitness/

 

xx

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Grumpy Cats Like Afghans.

I live with Depression and Irritable Bowel Syndrome.

Let me define those for you:

Depression –  Taken from http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/depression/DS00175

“Depression is a medical illness that causes a persistent feeling of sadness and loss of interest. Depression can cause physical symptoms, too.

Also called major depression, major depressive disorder and clinical depression, it affects how you feel, think and behave. Depression can lead to a variety of emotional and physical problems. You may have trouble doing normal day-to-day activities, and depression may make you feel as if life isn’t worth living.

More than just a bout of the blues, depression isn’t a weakness, nor is it something that you can simply “snap out” of. Depression is a chronic illness that usually requires long-term treatment, like diabetes or high blood pressure. But don’t get discouraged. Most people with depression feel better with medication, psychological counseling or other treatment.”

I have been working hard- with the support of family, friends, and my doctor to manage my depression. Some days I truly feel like maybe I have beaten the monster.
Today, the monster fought tooth and nail, left me defenseless and infuriated, and won.
But wait,
it gets better-
here is my other monster

“Irritable bowel syndrome (IBS) is a common disorder that affects your large intestine (colon). Irritable bowel syndrome commonly causes cramping, abdominal pain, bloating gas, diarrhea and constipation. Despite these uncomfortable signs and symptoms, IBS doesn’t cause permanent damage to your colon.

Most people with IBS find that symptoms improve as they learn to control their condition. Only a small number of people with irritable bowel syndrome have disabling signs and symptoms.

Fortunately, unlike more-serious intestinal diseases such as ulcerative colitis and Crohn’s disease, irritable bowel syndrome doesn’t cause inflammation or changes in bowel tissue or increase your risk of colorectal cancer. In many cases, you can control irritable bowel syndrome by managing your diet, lifestyle and stress.”

This isn’t new to my life, but I am getting so worn down and my confidence honestly has seen better days. I am frustrated with myself mostly, disappointed, and just plain confused. There are days where being in my body is hell. Being in yoga school is simply magical, but not when you’re running to the staff bathroom constantly [staff bathroom is just one toilet with a door, room spray, and a lock. A blessing in my eyes] and wincing in pain when you spend all day sitting on the floor and doing asanas. I have the kind of IBS where it is both diarrhea and Constipation, alternating as my body wishes.

Some days are a real struggle for me between the IBS pain and embarrassment, and the stress and depressed thoughts. I can really be a pathetic excuse for a youthful glowing 18-year-old.

I just had my mid term exams for my Anatomy and Physiology class, I am at the point that I have IBS flare ups after I eat anything no matter how gluten-free dairy free etc. you can get it.

It seems my body likes the snowball effect.

I get stress/anxiety attack/sad/etc.-I get depressed I get ill- I get depressed because I am ill- more illness- more depression.

My depression and my IBS stems from stress often. So I saw this challenge on the horizon when I enrolled for this college course.

But no matter how prepared I was- with my colon relaxing drugs, strict diet, sleeping pills etc. It still feels like you’ve been thrown against a brick wall, face first, the bricks are sharp, skin tearing, cold, and unforgiving.

Running into “brick walls” happens often.

I am not saying no one else suffers from stress, but I just feel like I should be able to handle this by now. I was diagnosed with the IBS when I was 16, and the depression is being hog tied by the antidepressants. My TMJ headaches I have a pill for that, My Acid reflux- pill for that too, and I take a probiotic just to make my cocktail a larger handful every evening, don’t forget Birth control to help control my IBS and anxiety around that whole situation. God. My night table is a pharmacy.

I started my elimination diet up again. As my body confidence level is a joke. I never was a stick, I resembled more of a stump when I was in that awkward childhood fat stage. Not that I want to be super skinny, but when you feel heavy, dense, bloated, and just disgusted at your own body you want to have some control back. I respect my body, but I am at the point where I stare at myself in a full length mirror, this IBS, this bloated pain, is just so apparent. Its ugly, its distorting, it’s not sexy. I have begun to hate my body for it. I am self conscious, and it’s not like you can take off your abdomen, its permanent, its right there, up front and centre. So when I am having a sick day (which is almost everyday these days) walking by any form of a mirror is avoided. I never set up my mat near the wall mirrors in the yoga studio if I can help it. Putting on jeans is avoided, the pain in my lower large intestine sometimes makes wearing jeans difficult. IBS makes being feminine and sexy difficult. IBS, makes functioning in general difficult.

I just don’t want to be in pain constantly.

So when I was beginning to cry during pranayama practice this morning because of the discomfort, I really felt ashamed.

You can manage IBS, and obviously I haven’t found out how to do that yet.

I was pissed at myself, because I don’t want to miss out on anything because of my health issues.

I felt frustrated, let down, and embarrassed by myself.

I wanted to go home, crawl into bed, and disappear from this world. Maybe dream of an alternate world, where Sally didn’t have to take 7+ pills a day, where Sally didn’t have to constantly remind herself that depressed thoughts are a no no. I am guessing that is where I will also ride unicorns, drink beer, and eat as much cheesy pasta as I want.

Meaning- that will never happen.

I told my instructor that I needed to go home, but she insisted I stay.

I understand the whole bucking up and dealing with it to get my education. But frankly- I knew where I needed to be, and that was home, in bed, hidden from life’s stresses.

How am I supposed to concentrate when in the midst of a lecture, sitting is a no-go because my colon has decided to have a spasm. Nature doesn’t call in this situation. Nature shows up unexpected, giving no fucks whether you double over dry heaving while your colon literally feels like it’s being shredded. If you have ever looked inside a Pike’s mouth, see all those teeth? Okay, turn the pike inside out and then drag if back and forth inside your intestines.

Feels like hell; Doesn’t it?

I am blessed that IBS isn’t ruining my colon- I’ve got the colonoscopy, done the research, etc.

IBS is just ruining me, thats all.

So when I was laying there on my mat, crying in silence and begging my colon to hang in there, I began looking at the clock.

8 hours to go…

7 hours 45 minutes to go…

7 hours to go…

when I got to 6 hours to go- it reminded me of high school, counting down the hours, just wanting to get the hell out of there.

I did not pay good money to do that in a class.

For god’s sake how old am I ?

Self deprecating thoughts come flooding in.

I hate when I feel weak.

I hate giving up.

I hate this.

4th panicked bathroom visit I noticed someone else is in the staff washroom.

Yep.

I’m screwed.

So I got back to my mat, tenderly sat down, and by this time I have no extra energy to plaster a smile on my face anymore.

For years, I have been told “listen to your body”

well – it was time to go home.

I found it hard to approach my instructors. I found I felt ashamed, and undeserving of getting the “permission” that I needed to be excused from class. I had never missed a weekend class in this course. Ever.

I missed one evening Thursday class when I was recovering from my wisdom teeth extractions. But from September to December- that is it.

Maybe it’s just the depression masking how I interpret things but I walked away from that situation feeling like my instructors doubted my dedication, and really were sick and tired of my “whinings”

I myself doubted my actions.

There is no protocol it seems when it comes to have a chronic illness not to mention a mental illness that has a risk of interfering in one’s schooling.

Is it a disability? I don’t know.

I was asked for a doctor’s note if I am going to keep missing classes.

Fine.

I can do that, and I can get excused absences for the 2 classes I have missed.

actually one and a half. since I stayed until noon today.

But I left feeling as if I did something wrong, which caused more stress, more pain, I am pretty sure my face was in a attractive grimace as I sat on the bus, putting my bag on the seat beside me, because frankly bus etiquette was not my top priority at the moment.

I am pretty sure I looked like a grumpy cat…

Grumpy-Cat

I don’t want this to define me, I don’t want this to impact my life in a negative way, I want to win this struggle, I want to conquor.

I descended from fucking bad ass vikings- it’s not in my blood to be labeled as weak.

You never heard of weak vikings, never heard of a viking who whined and complained when all they wanted to do was roll into the fetal position on their yoga mat, you know what they did? they powered through, and got shit done.

Why can’t I do that?

Usually I can grin and bear it- but today I just felt…

different,

I don’t know, emotional? extra depressed? Who knows.

Vikings also raped a lot of women and destroyed a lot of stuff. But right now if I viking was to take a yoga class, I am guessing they wouldn’t hijack and burn the yoga studio down…

I would like to say “no fucks were given today”

But I didn’t really feel that until I was in bed with my blanket over my head, blocking out reality.

Once I finally comforted and cooed my mind- reassuring myself that yes, health first, education second, I could finally doze off and forget about the pain temporarily.

I never liked “giving up” but in today’s situation I have to keep reminding myself that taking care of myself is not giving up.

I am still figuring this out, maybe I am missing some important pieces to my puzzle, but this is my journey.

Just happens to be that my journey includes a lot of bathroom breaks.

xx

Irony at its finest

So, like any unemployed adult in this world, I had slipped into what you may call “lazy bored muchie eating slug” I needed a job, and I needed it now. So I stepped out into the sunshine one day, plastered on a cute smile and mixed in some bubbly attitude, and started handing out resumes. 

I had done this many times before, with no luck. Coming form a small town, you didn’t really need a resume, since your employer probably knew your family, was a witness to you growing up, and didn’t need a piece of paper to tell them your qualities and skills. 

But in the big city, 

it is a totally different jungle…

At home I was a landscaper, janitor, and goatherd- none of those jobs required a resume. 

Here, retail experience and working with people was more important as to whether you know what was chickweed and what was freshly sprouted carrots. 

You could say many of the places I handed a resume too, I walked out of there knowing that they would probably chuckle to themselves; picture me frolicking with goats as if I lived in the alps, and toss my resume in the trash. 

My confidence deflated quick, until my mom came for a visit. 

I believe my mom and I have a very special relationship, even though there is the age difference, the personality difference, and the fact that she is my mom, we have built a beautiful friendship. I trust her advice and when she thinks something might be worth trying- I believe her. 

So when she bought some bread at Cob’s Bread, and was pleased by the service and began to chat to the manager about gluten free bread (for me) somehow she got on the topic of employment. Being a bakery, I decided to leave my mom with the breads and goodies to go look at socks. 

I suffer from something called Irritable Bowel Syndrome. I wish it had more of a ring to it, but it doesn’t. I can’t even jazz up the thing… but anyways having IBS means that I can’t eat a lot of things. 

Dairy, Gluten, Processed meat, Processed anything really, Coffee, Carbonated drinks, the list goes on. 

So when mom makes a stop at a bakery, I usually try not to torture myself and go focus on something else.

That day it was socks to be exact. 

So when mom came over to me, and said “I think you should drop off your resume at Cob’s” I was puzzled. But once I got thinking about it, the idea became more and more reasonable. 

Before being diagnosed, I had always wanted to work in a bakery, the smells, the tastes, the decorating, I thought that would be a fun job. 

After the diagnosis, I kept on baking, even though I couldn’t eat the majority of the sweets and the dream to work in a bakery soon faded to the back of my mind. I had a holiday in Kamloops to think it over, and when I got back I handed my resume to the manager. Talking to her myself I picked up on the vibe my mom must have felt. Happy, family oriented, and hard working. 

The interview went well, I didn’t feel like I had to pretend to be someone else, and I was happy to talk about  my volunteer work in my hometown. By the end of the interview, I was hired. 

After a little tour, meeting the staff, I was given a loaf of bread. 

And then it hit me. 

I am working in a bakery that specializes in breads. 

I will be up to my elbows in the very things that make me sick to my stomach if digested and bed ridden for hours at a time. 

I had to laugh at myself, of course I would be hired at a bakery… So in celebration of my weirdness I walked to the florist shop ( a place where I would actually know what I’d be doing) and bought myself a big bouquet of sunflowers. 

Sitting on the bus I let my mind unravel from the anxiety I had pre-interveiw… 

I took a peek at the bread sitting harmlessly in its own little bag, 

maybe it is a good thing to be working a bakery, 

I won’t be tempted to eat everything, it will be like selling alarm clocks, or socks, 

or dog jackets… I will learn about the qualities and what it has to offer and then pitch my sale to the customer. 

And I still will be able to fit my uniform by the end of the month. 

So even though I am living a life of ironic events, 

there always is a bright side to every situation. 

even if it means I am surrounded by cinnamon buns with cream cheese icing, cranberry and custard danishes and spinach and feta croissants.

xx

 

Can somebody please give this clown some matches please?

I’m going to be graduating soon, its like I’m sitting in a cannon at the circus, aimed straight up to the stars. The clown now just has to find his matches so I can be launched into…. I’m not sure what exactly. My art and my writing has been put on the back burner for  a few months now and I am on the verge of throwing a can of paint at my bedroom wall and just finger painting like a five year old. I am so in need of artistic expression right now. Grad, Scholarships, Prom, Guests, Bursaries, Work, Baby Goats, School, Exams, Transcripts, Applications are whats on my mind right now… Oh and food. Cant forget food. I’ve been tempted to create another blog to share my recipes and restaurant recommendations. I suffer from IBS, so I have quite the restricted diet,. (no gluten, wheat, dairy, high sugar content, caffeine, oh and did I mention pretty much anything tasty?) Its hard to find resources online, so I was tempted to just create my own for others. Just a thought. But at the moment I feel like I am carrying to many thoughts right now and I may just fall down flight of stairs metaphorically before all this graduation hoo-hah is done and over with.

If a clown asks you if you have any matches to spare…

Please just give them to him.

xx

This is Bella, one of the four baby goats I am looking after.Image