Suckasana

I had a monumentally bad practice this morning. Retrograde big stylie. Felt like I’d gone back in time to circa July 2003. I have no explanation for it. I felt good enough as I got out of bed at 6:00 am – eight hours after getting into it. Suryas started well, so did standing. And then it went pear-shaped somewhere in the midst of Utthita Hasta Padangusthasana. Hamstrings felt tight and it was just wrong. ‘Son of Gun’, I whispered under my breath like Carly Simon (circa 1973)

I perservered through the rest of the practice out of sheer stubborn pig-headedness. But I still can’t explain why it was so bad. Coz maybe it’s a bit cool this morning? Coz maybe I took a day off yesterday to rest my MCLs that felt a bit tweaked-out? Nah. Probably that mysterious Prana business wot dun it…init?

It wasn’t just physical. My mind was a wandering mess – turmoil over the wife and kids. I skyped my wife yesterday – she’s still in London. ‘Thinking about extending my trip like you suggested’ she said (It had been a throw-away comment as I saw her off at YYZ back in May – ‘You know…stay as long as you like, spend some real quality time with your folks’ I said, before adding for magnanimous good measure ‘Say, what the heck, you’re not due back to work till September, why don’t you extend your trip?!’ And she hadn’t even left TO. It felt at the time a good cheap way to sound generous (and at the time she responded that ‘Two months was quite enough’). Did I think she’d take me up on it? Like feck

Says she now, ‘I only wanted to extend a couple of weeks, but it’s peak season and the earliest flight back I could get back was 23 August (the day before our wedding anniversary/my birthday). I’m oscillating between resentfulness and understanding. I miss them but I’m beginning to wonder if they miss me. My wife took Dhara to the Lion King in the West End last week. I wish I were there. The season starts next month and we’re in a new stadium. I’d like to take her to see The Arsenal.

Schadenfreude is so not Yoga. But I admit to feeling a little as I watched Christiano Ronaldo blubbering after crashing out of the World Cup with Portugal yesterday. What a complete tosser…the kid sure can play though. Nice to see Arse…I mean France get through to the final. Allez Allez!

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