Downward Facing Worry

Yesterday I went to yoga class.

I know its sort of cool to be a gym rat. But I'm not. At all. I f-ing HATE the gym. I don't feel better when I go, i don't feel relaxed; I feel hungry, sore and tired. Case in point - I have not been to the gym in 2009. Matter of fact, I can tell you all the exercise I have gotten this year. I went walking three times - twice for 4 miles and once for 5 miles (although that was an accident, I missed the marker to tell me to turn back) and I have been to yoga class five times. The end. I am gonna ride this fantastic metabolism and blessed gene pool for all it's worth!

In addition, I find the whole process boring. Even if you go with a friend, if you're working out hard enough then you can't talk, which means it's just you and your thoughts. And I spend enough time with me and my thoughts. No need to add sore hamstrings to the mix. I thought having an iPod would help. Turns out I was wrong. I still find myself drifting off into thought, only to realize I have only run on this godforsaken treadmill for 6 minutes and 12 seconds and there's no way I'm going to make it to 20.

So you can imagine the desperation that led me to yoga class last night. I know he's not going to call or text, but somehow I can't help but to check my phone obsessively every 15 minutes. I'm watching tv or talking on the phone or whatever, and I find myself trying to trace back what happened, where it all went wrong. Trying to go to sleep is the worst. Every second I close my eyes I start dreading whether or not I did a good job on my last project at work; what, if anything, the senior associate thinks about my capabilities; whether I can make partner (a mere six years away mind you) and whether I even want to.

I am worn out with the 24 hour thinking. I just want to tune out for a little while, preferably without the aid of illegal street drugs (I would probably just spend the whole time I was high worrying about becoming an addict and losing my teeth). So I drag my usually lazy ass to yoga class. Not just any yoga class. Hot yoga.

Now, I like the idea of yoga, but I find it just as stressful, as, well, anything else. "focus on your breathing" "hold you stomach tight" "REACH for the celing" "don't forget to breathe!" all while trying to do something virtually impossible, like touch my toes.

Now, the other time in 2009 when I went to a hot yoga class, I found it relaxing, because I had one singular thought: DO NOT PASS OUT. First, because I'd be embarrassed and second because none of the employees had the good sense to take down my emergency contact information, and I am not trying to wind up at cook county hospital because they don't think I have insurance. But the point remains that for 50 blessed minutes I didn't think, and it was wonderful.

But turns out its never as good as the first time. Thoughts still crept up in my head even though I thought I might die from those backbends. It was like having the tv on mute - the flashing lights still catch your attention from time to time.

So, obviously, the problem is not the gym (well, not entirely). The problem is me. I am not one of those people that can be fully involved in work or cooking or shopping online or whatever it is. There's always a background commentary running, wondering, worrying. I think I'm too afraid to confront my fears head on, so I spend every waking moment with them in the background, hoping that I'll find a solution without the intensity of a direct focus.

The question is, now what?