Damn you, Bikram!
I know, I know, I haven’t written about running in a while. Don’t give up on me just yet – I’m still getting my body used to running outside in this heat, and still hoping to find company to run with me (I have a brand new neighbor who is a new runner – yes, I’m attempting to convince her to tag along with me! Everyone is afraid of the heat!).
In the meantime, I’ll continue to do what helped me be a better runner last year: Bikram Yoga. I still think it’s torture, but I’m doing it so I can be a better runner. So that when I run under 85 degree heat I think “ha, this is nothing!” (or more accurately “this sucks, but it’s not too bad”).
After kicking my ass weightlifting on Tuesday, then going to bikram (after months away) the same day, I decided that going back to bikram on Wednesday was a good idea. And it was! I had already improved a lot the next day! Didn’t need to take breaks, did all the poses (though there’s still a long way to go). So needless to say, I dragged my butt out of bed yesterday and went again.
I had woken up sore: DOMS (Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness) always hits me two days after the workout. The next day? Sure, I’m a little sore. Add another morning and it’s all like “OUCH!” with every movement.
Have you tried doing yoga (heated or not) when it hurts to lift your arms? Then when you have to hold a pose, you think your arms might just fall out from the pain? No? Well, you’re a smart one then.
Instead, I went to bikram 3 days in a row, battling DOMS. My plan was to go back today, for the 4th day in a row.
Yeah, not happening. E V E R Y T H I N G H U R T S. If I thought yesterday was bad, today is much much worse. My back and arms are in a constant burn, as if I’m mid movement on a pose (or when lifting), except I don’t have to be doing anything for that. I’m sitting my butt on the couch typing this, with only my fingers moving, and I can feel the burn. Can you say out of shape?
So today? It’s a bikram rest day. I’m still trying to get my ass in gear and see if I can hit the treadmill, or even the weights, but who am I kidding? I’m a wuss.
But next week? You’ll see me again, bikram. You’ll see me again.