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Archive for the ‘Body’ Category

As I sit outside on this May morning I wonder why I feel chilled after the high 90’s temperatures of yesterday. I am wearing long black yoga pants, a long sleeve shirt, and flip-flops. My feet are a bit cold, or is it my ankles? Strange, but my body temperature (and comfort) seem to be solely determined by my feet. To warm up I have covered myself with a down duvet. It actually feels like I am in a cocoon. One might ask,”If you are cold, then why don’t you go inside?” Oddly, the temperature inside is about the same as outside, although it is air conditioning dependent.

If I could live without air conditioning, I would. I think that it is silly that all summer when the mercury is hitting 110+, I am sitting inside with long sleeve pants, long sleeve shirt and my precious down duvet. Insanity? Yes. This is what happens when you love the heat but your husband has a different idea about temperature comfort.

I constantly run around the house (in vain I might add) to change the thermostat for the air conditioning up to 82 (from 75?) so that I might gain a reprieve from the arctic air being blown at me. Of course, I am the one who always ends up getting seated right in front of the air vent!

Why can’t we as humans be more comfortable with the outside temperature? I totally understand not wanting to leave the house when the temperature hits 110 in the middle of August, but what is wrong with 80’s? I mean, it is still 30 degrees cooler than the outside? Why do we need to waste so much energy cooling the house just so I can suffer in the cold? If I wanted cold, I would move to Wisconsin. Then at least I would have the comfort of a ‘hot-dish’ to keep me warm regardless of the outside temperature.

I have made a choice to appease my husband and his need to live in a refrigerator (and leave the thermostat alone). I have retreated to the patio to enjoy the outside temperature. It is a lot more comfortable, and fortunately last year we invested in ‘outside’ furniture (not plastic chairs or wicker…real furniture! I sit in my comfy upholstered chair with my feet relaxed on a stool. This really isn’t bad at all. I could get used to this. Come August I will need someone to bring me some kind of iced beverage when it heats up. Although I enjoy the reality of the outside temperature, I am not completely oblivious to the heat – I need something to keep cool. How are you staying cool this summer?

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I went to a Power yoga class at my gym today. Am I still allowed to call it a ‘gym’ or should I be saying ‘health club’ or ‘fitness club’. When I say gym it seems to be out of some antiquated habit I cannot break. I used to be a member of Gold’s Gym (even though I only took aerobics classes there). I feel like I date myself saying gym. Then again, maybe I date myself saying aerobics. I wasn’t sure if it was dated or regional. Sort of like saying pocketbook instead of purse.

I hadn’t been to a yoga class in about 4 years. I recall taking a class after Paige was born and I was in complete misery because in the class you were supposed to use your ‘core’ and my ‘core’ had just spent 9 months being stretched and was like an old rubber band; it wasn’t snapping back very quickly. So today after a multi-year hiatus from yoga, I re-entered the yoga world. First fatal error was that I didn’t have a yoga mat. I figured it was a gym (sorry, fitness club) they must have yoga mats? I actually lucked out because there were 2 yoga mats available (and I got one!). Clearly I was an oddity because everyone else had their own mats.

I knew the class might be a little hard (it was listed as intermediate), but I figured I run 2-3 times a week – it couldn’t be that hard! Well, I learned it was ‘that hard’. I felt like there were muscles that hadn’t been used in decades; although surely it couldn’t have been that long. Could it? I was lucky that I remembered most of the poses the instructor was doing – it was just a challenge keeping up. I didn’t know calling on these dusty and rusty muscle groups was going to make me so out of breath. One thing was for sure; I got my workout for the day. (Before the class I was worried it might not be strenuous enough for me.) My friends who are ‘yoga junkies’ are laughing at me now. I can hear it.

My favorite part of the class was the relaxation at the end. I could forget about all my worries (including the torture I had just experienced for the last hour). I actually really liked the class because it made me focus on my body as I made it move into all these crazy poses (I tried to get it to move, not always successful though). All I could think about was connecting my mind to my body. Everything else from the day seemed to fall away. I think I gained some much-needed patience that lasted through dinner and the usual evening routine with the kids. If my body could stand it, I could do that class every day and be a lot more mentally grounded. I probably won’t make it back tomorrow (since I may not be able to get out of bed) but I did promise the instructor that I would be back. Maybe I said that through the mind fog I experienced after the relaxation portion of the class. I am sure my post class yoga high will wear off tomorrow. Then I can decide if I am ready for another workout, or should I say yoga practice?

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A gentle wind is blowing my hair around just enough so that it is tickling my face. It feels good to have fresh color and a clean haircut. For some reason my hair seems more bouncy. It is also nice to have covered up those nasty gray hairs that started to peek out. Funny how we pay hairdressers to make our hair look natural or should I say ‘naturalish’. Today my hair color turned out a nice brown with a hint of red that you can only really see in the bright sunlight. It isn’t a “Carrot Top” kind of red, but a nice auburn or burnt ember kind of red. I always wonder who gets their hair purple – because I saw that option in the ‘color’ book.

I was thinking about the weight of my hair. Somehow gravity is non-existent in the salon, because my hair truly defies gravity – at least until I walk out the front door. If I am lucky my hair will keep its bounce and fresh-cut look for about 24 hours. Will it stay like this if I don’t sleep on it? Should I just sleep in a chair tonight so that I don’t mess up my hair? Then I could show it off for work tomorrow. Hmmm… maybe not, because I would still have to figure out how to take a shower without getting it wet (like wear one of those crazy shower caps?). Does anyone under 70 or maybe 80 even wear a shower cap anymore? I certainly don’t own a shower cap. Honestly. I have seen them in hotels before. I have to ask…who still uses them?.

I guess I will just have to wash my hair tomorrow and let nature take its course with my hair (even though it feels more like revenge). I live in the driest climate (Arizona) which results in lack of curls, but it also isn’t good for body (this is why it seems to look flat all the time). Oregon seemed to yield ‘curly everywhere’ hair, reminiscent of a clown. Luckily I kept my hair pretty long when I lived there, otherwise I really would have looked like a clown. The wind seems to be picking up, but since the sky is dark (it is night-time) I cannot tell if the wind is friendly (clear skies?) or evil (rainstorm or dust storm?). If friendly, then I will be able to sit outside on the patio for a while longer. You just never know what the wind will blow your way. I was hoping the weekend would blow my way, until I realized today was only Wednesday. I think sadly,”By the weekend I will have completely lost the ‘new haircut’ feeling.” Another breeze pushes strands of hair against my face. I close my eyes and enjoy the tickling of my face while I still can.

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The whole family was sitting together on the sofa looking at some old photos and movies clips of the kids when they were babies. Daddy (Chris) kept asking,”What is that smell?”, and, “Who farted?”. Apparently the odor that was passing by his nose was not good. Not good at all! I was on the other end of the sofa, so I couldn’t smell a thing. (I actually thought he was imagining things.) Finally Chris realized the origin of the odor, our 4-year-old daughter’s feet. “It is her feet!”, he exclaimed. It seemed that this stench was so terrible that it couldn’t even come from a men’s locker room, never mind our dainty daughter’s feet.

Unfortunately, I am the guilty party here regarding the smelly feet. It isn’t because I let Paige wear shoes without socks today, but instead because I have passed on to her the ‘stinky-feet’ gene. For years this gene has been a real problem for me. So many times I have found myself scrubbing my feet with anti-bacterial soap in an attempt to wash away the smell. If you can call it a smell. A smell can sound nice, like roses ‘smell’. “What a beautiful smell!”, someone might say as they walk by an aromatic rose-bush. What I ‘sensed’ through my nose now, was anything but beautiful.

Realizing that Chris is suffering from the odor of Paige’s feet caused by my faulty gene, I take Paige into the bathroom and scrub her feet clean. How sad is it that Paige already knows the routine for ‘cleaning her feet’? An overall bath, sure, but how many kids run a bath for their stinky feet?

I return to sit on the sofa with Paige and her feet (that now smell like flowers) and suddenly I am overcome (actually my nose is overcome) with another vile odor. It isn’t my feet (I don’t think?). Then I notice my son Tucker and his feet that are actually covered in socks. Too bad the socks didn’t cover the odor like they did with his feet. Now the harsh reality hits me that he also has the ‘stinky-feet’ gene. Chris promptly instructs Tucker to enter the bathroom for his feet fumigation. Tucker removes his socks and Chris says, “Your feet have a toxic aroma. Let’s take care of that.”

I never heard anyone say ‘toxic’ and ‘aroma’ in the same sentence. Aroma is what you experience when you enter someone’s house after they baked cookies or burned a vanilla candle. It is too bad the ‘aroma’ of my children’s feet wasn’t more like the baked cookies, but you just have to deal with the genes you are given. I am just thankful that I live in a time and place where water and soap are plentiful (along with scented bubble bath) and I don’t always have to suffer from breathing air with a toxic aroma.

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