I was supposed to go to the gym then go out to a friend’s going away party but I bailed on both in favour of eating bad takeout Indian food and watching CSI. I hadn’t planned on being so blah, but I just couldn’t bring myself to hit the gym in the hour I had left before it closed after work, plus I was starving and dehydrated so I said ‘fuck it’ and planned on both going to the gym and doing yoga on Friday to make up for it.
I don’t know why I insisted on the butter chicken, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. Deep down I knew that wasn’t the case, but m ravenous appetite clouded my judgment.
Fast forward and I’ve wolfed it all down as well as a can of diet iced tea and a slice of pie. Even though I’m feeling kinda bloated, I tell myself that it’s nothing a little yoga can’t cure. So I ease myself off the couch and into my yoga tights and unfurl my mat.
About five minutes in I started to feel a little queasy and it only worsened with every subsequent inverted pose to the point where I was actually concentrating on my breathing and not the searing pain in my thighs like I normally do (you’re supposed to structure your breathing blah, blah, blah but I never do because I’m lazy/don’t care).
I have this thing against stopping dvds, treadmills and the like – once I’ve started, I just can’t stop until the natural conclusion of the cycle/program.I promised myself that if I actually threw up that I could stop, otherwise I’d have to just grin and bear it but towards the end my heartburn/acid reflux was getting so bad that I had to stop doing a boat pose.
Lessons learned: Yoga and Indian food don’t go together.