Monthly Archives: August 2009
Ah, finally, as promised. All about my 60 day / 107 day / 120++ class challenge!
It was hell, it was heaven, it was a real mix of emotions all rolled into one heck of a challenge. There were days I felt like a lump of turd, and there were days where I felt like a champion. There were days that I looked like a carcass after being dragged through the mud, and there were days where I looked glowing / absolutely positively HOT [according to fellow benders, but this was towards the end of the challenge].
I shall summarise my journey via the following categories. [Oh wow, I sound so formal now!] :
The Mental / The Emotional
Day 20-28 : I hit my LOWEST point ever. I felt so depressed, totally worthless, utterly useless, and possibly the WORST daughter any family could ever have. That and coupled with personal matters that cropped up later, I would drag my sorry flat ass to class and think : Just what in the bloody FUCK am I doing here? I did NOT pay RM1890 for this shit! Oh I want to kill you Erik / Jakob / Sean / Mei L. AND YOU KNOW WHAT, YOU CAN SUCK ON MY DICK! *rinse, repeat, for 90 minutes.
In other words, weepy, depressed. I cried several times during class, during the most inopportunte of moments [setting up for Rabbit with tears and sweat dripping down my face, coming up for Full Locust trying to breathe and not sound like a choking / dying cat, coming out of Camel trying to control my sobbing racking body – did I mention I was always front row when this happens?!]. Surprise surprise, after a good cry, I felt SO MUCH better. A friend asked, “Is that what BIKRAM YOGA does to you? Make you cry? Did it help you become a better person?”, and I’d say “Yes, it helped me get rid of my excess baggage, and I’m not sure if I’m a better daughter / person because of it, but it certainly helped with letting go of all the hurt, sadness, confusion, anger, disappointment I’ve been through my life [and that’s A LOT]”.
Day ?? : There are days [like today] where I’m so smiley and happy clappy it would FREAK anyone who knew me 8 years ago. Seriously.You know, the days where you smile at everything and suddenly the world just seems a little brighter, although everyone around you is wearing a goddamn surgical mask.
Day ?? : And then there are days where I get oh so emotional, even the teenist tiniest bit of emotion will trigger waterworks. Example : OH the kitten is hungry! *tears start welling up. I blame the hormones. I blame the damn progesterone and estrogen and WHATEVER -terone.
I haven’t lost ANY weight, but as of today, I weigh 45.5kg. In fact, I think I started losing too much that the studio director once told me “Mei, you need to eat!”. Though I’ve noticed that I’ve toned up more and I’m *finally* losing those dreaded muffin tops.
For those of you who are starting your challenge [be it 30 or 60 Day], my advice is : The goal is NOT to lose weight drastically in a short period of time. Your body is changing, and with it comes all the wonderful goodness of a healthy spine, better inner plumbing *nods vigorously* and the MENTAL CLARITY / appreciation for the little things around you. Honestly, if I could, I’d love to tone up a little more and get back a bit more curves. I reckon that I now look like a boy with my sinewy hard and bony body that only a man who has a weird fetish could like. I know the “perfect” yoga body [as displayed by 2009 Champion Courtney Mace] is as such, but damn, I’d love to have a little padding on my chest and butt.
THE SEX DRIVE
Aha, I know you’ve all been waiting for this juicy bit of update. Folks, my SEX DRIVE was UP THE WALL, OVER THE CEILING, ALL THE WAY SHOOTING UP INTO SPACE. Ahem.
It felt almost as though I’m some horny 17 year old lacrosse jock who’s on the prowl, or even Samantha Jones from Sex and The City. Seriously. I’d be out with my friends [guy watching, heh], and point out a guy and go “Yes, I’d tap him”. They’d look at me in horror, almost as though I told them, “I just stuck my finger up your dad’s butthole and he loved it”.
That being said, a friend keeps on teasing me mercilessly about Vegas. “Oho, you’re gonna be so randy when you get there. And you know WHAT, you finally get to try WHITE MEAT!”.
“Oh sod off. I am going there for yoga study, not body study”.
“Nevertheless, don’t forget to pack the condoms ya!” he replied.
On a more ironic note, even IF I do, I’d be packing rubber from Malaysian trees, processed in Thailand, to be brought over to the USA. How’s that for a transcontinental fuck?
My friend, I shall be like the desert. HIGH AND DRY. That and I’ve got another man on my mind to bonk the living daylights out of. 😉
Cool, calm collected. Things that used to faze / irritate / annoy / get me jumpy don’t seem to do so anymore. That being said, I still have yet to beat the living daylights of anyone who calls me “fucking idiot”.
60 days / 107 days / 120++ classes really does help. BUT, don’t do it purely to see certain fast results [eg weight loss, I want to get strong arms, etc]. Do it for YOURSELF with little / no expectations. In other words, go with the flow / however your body’s reacting! I’ve heard of people coming in just so they can lose a dress size in time for their wedding and I’m thinking “Oh LORDY! *facepalm*”. Because to me, personally, that’s not what YOGA is about.
Enough about me yapping my gob off, here are some photos that I took last week [that I promised J to upload, and shall now do so] :
Is it just me, or is my right leg RIDICULOUSLY overlocked?! It honestly looks like a photoshop disaster, no, wait, a photoshop catastrophe. And excuse that little blubber peeking out. I just had dinner and no, that’s not ALWAYS my excuse. I literally had a pizza in my tummy while doing this. And the left big toe? Well, er, I’ve actually got a bunion on the toe so it causes me great difficulty to really point the damn toe in.
Ah, the concentration part. I wish my forehead were up higher, but then again, apparently we Asian people suck at forward bending [or maybe it’s just me].
Staaaaaaaaaanding spliiiiiits for competition. Whoops truncated leg! At this rate, I honestly couldn’t be stuffed, teacher training is more important! At least my heels are in 1 line, though my left arm could be down just a tad, and my right shoulder rotated out more, and my body down just a tad. WHOPEE, my elbows aren’t doing the weird gangly / unsightly bending bit that grossed me out when I first saw a picture of myself doing this posture. Oh, and yes, chin should be up touching the shoulder.
Wow my Rabbit looks more like a melted golf ball. Hips should be up more, though I’m not sure if I’m putting too much strain on my neck. And look at that belly, JUST LOOK AT IT! LOL!
I remember someone sniggering and saying this posture ought to be renamed “Camel Toe” -_-
Lookey, my hips aren’t too far forward, HOORAY! And boobs chest pushing up towards the ceiling. Elbows are still doing some weird funky bending, though I’m more concerned with how far forward my hips are pushing. Please excuse the belly, that calzone simply isn’t digesting too well. And what did I tell you about my flat ass, huh?! 😛
Hmm I think my back needs a little bit more work. Went down into the posture a different way [hands on hips until my head’s all the way down backwards] instead of just doing a backward bend into my feet. J, don’t I look like a table after it was beaten by a bunch of thugs? 😛
And so ends my entry, together with a collection of not so pretty pictures. I’d insert a few manly jokes about my figure here, but I’ve had enough of being called “Mister NG” and “Boy”.
p.s : Maybe I ought to grow my hair long and start wearing nail polish / eyeliner whenever I go out.
OK my fellow Bikram yogi/nis, you know the drill.
“SIT DOWN! *clap* until your hips touch the chair, feet flat position”
“SIT UP *clap clap*”
“And GO! *clap* Arms and head together! Come down until your whole body…”
A Bikram class [depending on teacher] is almost like a concerto of claps. Go in, clap, come out, clap, release, clap.
This one’s for all of ya!
p.s : Cookie to anyone who can guess which postures the dialogue’s from. Yes, I’ve been a good little girl memorising my dialogue and not getting into any trouble. *adjust halo.
Guys, please don’t wear boxer shorts to class. Boxer shorts are kinda like… underwear. And as the term “underwear” implies, it goes UNDER your clothes, not OVER it to be shown to the world.
And remember wet t-shirt competitions? Yes, they may look good on girls, but please, please, PLEASE, when practicing hot yoga, please, for the love of god and sanity, please, don’t wear tight white cotton boxer briefs.Ok, fine, at least he was wearing underwear beneath his tighty-whiteys, but come on!
This ends today’s Public Service Announcement.
Sigh, it seems like my life is one BIG cartoon! I swear someone should just write a script based on my adventures and sell it and make TONNES of moolah.
Practiced Advanced class yesterday with Jakob. YAY, advanced classes twice a week! That’ll help up my concentration and tighten my screw loose brain, and hopefully help “yoga out” whatever crap I’m feeling right now. I remember Jakob was saying how Life Pose was supposed to help with sexual energy and I asked dryly “Oh, does it help your sex life go up or down?”.
“Oh with Bikram, it’s all about the SEX!”.
“That’s no help then,” I replied, “I fucking need an OFF switch before I go out and do something stupid!”* [Yeah, advanced class with Jakob is so informal! I love it! We laugh and joke and talk about how coming out of a pose feels like 20 ounces of crack cocaine coursing through your veins. Not that I’ve done crack before, though!].
So instead of driving there and having to pay a ridiculous amount for parking, I opted to take public transportation there. While at KL Sentral, I spotted a tourist [atypical white guy with huuuge bag] asking for directions to get to Bukit Bintang. So I told him, we can go together, since I’m heading in the general direction. So Theo, from Melbourne [cough Aussies], is staying in KL for 5 days before heading to India, then Portugal, then back to Malaysia and heading up north to Penang. Awesome! I wish I had the funds to do a little travelling post TT!
After pointing Theo to where his hostel is I set off to walking to the studio. Lo and behold, what should happen but my shoes fall apart. By falling apart, I mean, the sole has separated from the last, so it looks like my shoe’s talking all to herself. Since I didn’t fancing walking barefoot on Malaysian roads [plus there was hella lot of construction going on!], I had to DRAG my right foot along Jalan Bukit Bintang [that’s Bukit Bintang Road] from Lot 10 to the studio, a good 1.5km walk. Imagine if you will, my walking pattern :
Lift your left leg up. Drag right foot along. Lift left leg up. Drag right foot. Lift. Drag. Lift. Drag.
For 1.5km. Across treacherous inner city terrain.
Thank the shoe Gods that Pavilion was already open, so I headed over to Charles and Keith for a little shoe-shopping. Hey, it was a good excuse allright. I only regret not heading over to the C&K warehouse in Singapore for a spot of therapy. [I remember Fooie berating/nagging/advising about saving funds for TT, but it seems that the shoe Gods want me to shop for shoes! 😀 ].
And you thought my Wednesday drama ended there? Noooo. Before taking the advanced at 3pm, I had the brilliant idea of having a salad before class. By the time I started doing forward compressions [Frog, guillotine, etc], I was burping and looking like I’d decorate the studio mirrors with half digested salad. Jakob guessed -from the smell of my burp!- that I had a salad and he said “No more salads. Fruits, yes. But no salads, they take too long to digest!. Ughhh now I know!
Waited around after class for Jo to show up. It was good catching up with her [albeit briefly] before I headed out to dinner with my dad and cousins [he hovered around while I was talking to Jo, so no, we couldn’t GOSSIP!]
To follow up, it was raining cows and monkeys today before class, which entailed the use of my trusty white brolly [FREE from the ex-client. They may make good cars, but they sure make lousy brollies]. While I could get it open, I couldn’t get it to CLOSE. What the hell? If they can make cars with Brake Assist, surely a brolly that can open AND close isn’t a tall order?! Finally had to get someone to help me, but I don’t think she understood what I had to say [or maybe she just didn’t like my face], when I asked for help, she said “OK”, and turned around and walked away. What the fuck? Hello, lady, I’m asking for help to close the brolly so I won’t impale you with it later! Sheesh.
And that concludes my Wednesday and Thursday Damsel in Distress cartoon adventure. Still can’t believe I dragged my feet 1.5 [ok, maybe 2] km along KL city. *forehead palm.
*Taken from Garbage – Version 2.0. I reckon it’s the BEST rock / alternative album ever, but feel free to educate me if you think I need it 😉
Ah, wherever I look, temptations abound. The sofa’s more tempting than the hot room, sneaking looks at facebook profiles / championship videos hold more delight than memorising dialogue [I am up to dandayama-janushirasana, LOCK THE KNEE – YOU HAVE NO KNEE!] and suddenly that single guy in the corner that I NEVER thought I’d date [“He’s too serious! Plus I think I’m too chirpy happy-clappy bimbotastic for him!”] suddenly looks so damn date-worthy. But I digress.
Temptations. Who hasn’t faced them before?
When I had my … weird relationship with food [I’ll just stop short of calling it an eating disorder, though a nutjob of a doctor thought I really was anorexic], food was a temptation to me. After a brief struggle, I still had a complex relationship with food, counting calories and planning my meals in advanced. Now, I don’t even CARE. I just eat what I want, when I want and I don’t give a damn whether it contains 2000 calories [OK, maybe I really should!].
Temptations, they work like a drug, calling to you until you’ve had enough of it and you give in. Once you’re satiated, you then realise : Was it all worth it? Would you do it again? How long more are you going to give in to temptation?
One thing’s for sure though, I certainly need to tune up this screw-loose brain of mine. These temptations are making me an addict coming back for a little more.
p.s : Just realised that the whole of tomorrow and Saturday will be dedicated to yoga. I shouldn’t be clairmeiz, I should probably be a Yoga Mei-niac! [hattip to Christine!] 😀
Yeah, so again I’m bloated and waddling around like a whale on land, and lo and behold, my dear friend Tay decides to cross my path.
Tay : Hey, when you get to vegas, I want decent hot chicks. Deal?
M* : OK.
Tay : Remember, DECENT HOT CHICKS!
M* : Oh, SO I’M NOT A DECENT HOT CHICK?
Tay : err…
M* : SO I’M NOT DECENT OR HOT, IS THAT IT? HUH, HUH, HUH?
Tay : Whoah, chill the fuck out, PMS x 1000
M* : SO I’M UGLY, IS THAT IT?
Tay : …….
He still hasn’t replied any of my messages. Hmm…
p.s : It also could be that I slept at 4am this morning. I am such a nocturnal creature this week.
While surfing for yoga posture pictures / videos [where do the hands REALLY GO in sleeping yogi?!], I stumbled upon this gem.
Please, if you will, the picture BEFORE : click
Please if you will, the picture AFTER : click
Poor Bikram! Getting all censored like that.
Don’t need to read the article if you don’t want to, but gee, whoever has time to chant during Bikram Yoga has gotta have a lot of time on their hands.
Ah, after my second Advanced class, I don’t seem to be too sore. It could be because last week was the week of PMS, hence my body was acting up and what not. It also could be because I’ve had only 4-5 hours of sleep each night since Thursday [ahh, more drama!] and I have some form of alcohol in my system [stout, lager, 2 cocktails] which could be why I feel like a wet noodle and slightly dehydrated.
This time round, we [by we, I mean, all of us ladies] were all made to work on our upper body strength [of which I have negative 5] by doing countless headstands, shoulder stands, forearm stands. Since the studio in Pavilion is fully mirrored [mirrors round the back, side, front], we had no choice but to practice our stands against the mirror. Now do a little math with me here, please. Because group activities are always so much fun!
Hot room + mirrors = heated mirrors
Unfortunately since I’m blessed with delicate, sensitive skin [that bruises easily, might I add], the moment I swung my legs up and hit balanced against the mirrors, I screamed in shock.
The mirrors were fucking hot! [I know, NO shit Sherlock!]. AURGHHHHH!
Just realised also that sometimes, an advanced class could be described in a rather… creative way. Like a badly written rap song. Think about it for a minute though! Hot sweaty bodies in 1 room, screams of pain [and or joy, once you GET a posture], a ridiculous amount of cussing [especially if you have a really foul mouth like me] and babes dressed in short shorts and tank tops.
So here’s my little ditty / rap that I came up with in under 30seconds [while chasing Edward up the stairs going “HEE HEE!”] :
Oooh sweat drippin’ all ovah mah bodeh,
Hot bodies slammin’ against the wall,
Fallin, fallin, fallin, all over me,
Breakin and achin as all them bitches fall down over me.
[insert obligatory rap move here]
p.s : Yeah, it’s really horrible, isn’t it? I’m actually laugh-cringing reading the lyrics, but oh well, if this made you cringe in absolute horror [“Somebody PLEASE send her to an English writing class!”], I’m so happy you’re cringing! LOL!
“Be present, be here now, for the past is gone and the future uncertain”.
So yes, I shall live my life in the NOW. Though I have done things that I’m not very proud of in my past, I’ll just amble along and see where life leads me. They say the past affects the present affects the future, but if I keep thinking about my past, or wondering if there was something I could’ve done right / better, I won’t be able to move forward!
Though I suspect NEVER tell this quote to a financial planner or one’s parents. Unless you want a solid 2 hour lecture.
So today I had my first posture clinic practice with studio director and fellow TT trainee, Mel.
85-90% verbatim, so I really need to work on memorising EVERYTHING! And no uhhs and uhms and “OH SHIT SORRY!” during utkatasana.
In fact, I’m starting to suspect that I’ll turn out into a teacher that regularly gets death stares from students because I hold a posture for just 5 seconds too long. Halfway through awkward Mel gave me a LEVEL 25 DEATH STARE before I realised that I was holding her too damn long in the posture.
Next on the list : Verbatim, verbatim, verbatim. And no additional EXHALES or PUSH ! 90% verbatim is 100 % WRONG!