Last night I participated in a yoga class for the first time…in more than 10 weeks. This past July, while leaving the studio where my Restorative Yoga Teacher Training is held, I missed the last step of a rock-solid stone staircase and lost gravity for what seemed like an eternity. Only to land and scream in pain and fear that was completely foreign to me. Luckily, a fellow yogi helped me up and to a cab. And the nicest cab driver in NYC drove me to Urgent Care, where the diagnosis was made.
Not being able to walk and shower on my own two feet was tough. But the hardest part was not being able to practice yoga or run. The latter which I had started doing diligently to take better care of myself. Oh, how I’ve missed yoga. When you’re used to doing it, and you don’t for a period of time, whether from an injury or an intense schedule with work, family and so on, you feel the effect. For me, I just feel different and unbalanced and without a full center. My loved ones notice the difference, too.
So, for the first time, I did a complete set of Sun Salutations, albeit slowly (because it was a Slow Flow class) and tentatively at times because my ankle is still recovering. As I was lifting my arms up and inhaling and then folding forward and exhaling, I laughed inside at the irony of how happy I was doing slow flow, considering, before my ankle injury, I never took the class. I found the pace too deliberate and lacking a challenge. But I was so out of tune, I was sweating and grateful for it. Moving slowly, but steadfastly, perfectly synchronized with each inhale and exhale, was like a much needed fall tune up.