Comeuppance, It's A Good Thing

Donna and I went to Diva Night at our Fleet Feet in Carrboro. "Bra fittings, food & wine, chair massage and much more!" the ad said. "Sign us up!" we said. It was a blast. Reason number one: there was swag. We got a Brooks travel coffee cup, the Moving Comfort "A fit woman is a powerful woman" sticker, a pen, and a sample package of special detergent for washing sports gear - all tied up in red cellophane with racy red shoe laces, topped by a tiny tiara hair comb. Fun! We had an Arbonne hand treatment (sea salt/essential oil goop that left our hands so soft!), macked on fresh fruit, cheese, and wine (well, I'm not drinking but D had a yummy white), got a 15 minute massage (melt!), spoke with an incredibly interesting researcher about risk factors and healthy lifestyles, and tried on gear. We didn't win any of the big door prizes, but we were given zippered, mesh bags for our workout dainties. Donna got fitted for a new sports bra while I (having been fitted the week before) found (and had to buy) a Nike running skirt. I'd had it in my head that I would post about the zaniness of sports bra fittings - but that will have to wait until I can snag a picture of the visual aid from Fleet Feet. For now - don't you love the picture above that they sent out in the email invite to the event? Who wouldn't want to spend all of their cashola with these wacky folks?

There was so much going on. Women everywhere. It was energizing to hobnob with that many athletic women. At one point, I saw a pile of yoga books and a woman in pin stripes signing them. At the very moment I was deciding to avoid that corner of the room like the plague, Donna said, "Oh, yoga! Let's go check it out." I said, "You go right on with your bad self. I hate yoga. I have no patience for breathing through your eyeballs or whatever it is you have to do while playing twister with yourself in yoga class. And yoga people smell weird. Besides - look at her." Donna looked over. "She's looks great! What's wrong?" "What's wrong?" I asked. "She's tall. She's thin and beautiful and sitting like a pretzel - a pretzel in a fabulous pant suit. A pretzel in a pant suit with perfect hair. That's what's wrong. I hate her from afar. And it's YOGA." You see where this is going, right? You would think I would learn! The minute - nay the very second - I am a judgmental ass, the universe hits me in the chops with it. Rightfully so. But still.

Of course this gorgeous creature turned out to be not only gracious, articulate, and nice, but she's a TRIATHLETE (like USA world team or some such). She is also a certified triathlon coach. To top it off, she didn't smell like a yoga person at all. She did end up having a total yoga person name - Sage Rountree. ("Hello, Kettle? This is the Pot. You're black. And? You have a weird yoga person name too. So shut up already.") Naturally we ended up with our very own signed copy of Sage's book The Athlete's Guide To Yoga. Worth. Every. Penny. For one thing she explains specifically how to integrate different types of yoga workouts into a triathlon training schedule. For another, she has some wonderfully helpful core exercises. I know my core needs stabilizing, but I've had a hard time focusing on it.

I want her DVD. (The book came with a sampler short DVD which is great.) Sage also has a podcast too (in the sidebar --> if you want to check it out) - which might help me once I can figure out the basics. One reason I hate yoga (and I really do loathe it even though I practically worship Sage now) is that I SUCK at it. It makes me feel stupid. And clumsy. And rigid. Which I know is what yoga is supposed to help - but I haven't ever been able to stand it long enough to get any benefit whatsoever from it. In fact, the only positive I've ever been able to chalk up to yoga was getting to learn Sanskrit** but after a few classes I've always decided there must be a Sanskrit class I could take without having to put up with this yoga crap! FTR, John LOVES yoga and has wanted to get back into it for years. Donna, while more of a Pilates person in the last while, has also wanted to give yoga another try. I have had ZERO interest in figuring out going to a yoga class with them. Until now. Now I'm practically yearning to go. As long as Sage is the one teaching. And there's no stinky incense. It's absolutely on the to do list as soon as we can coordinate the budget and eight people's schedules. It takes some serious planning ahead to make it alright for the three adults to leave the five children home alone on a school night. It also wouldn't hurt to win the lottery. Then we could go to yoga class and afford real triathlon coaching. Hello, universe? Are you listening? I'm sorry I was snarky. I won't do it again. Please, please, please can there be some magic to help us hire Sage? Pretty please?

P.S. **I know. I'm a language geek. But how can you not want to learn Sanskrit after reading TS Eliot? Datta, Dayadhvam, Damyata did it for me. Give, Sympathize, Control. Not bad words to put in my triathlon obsessed brain.**