Jenna spent the night with me last night. The plan was to practice at like 8 instead of 7 but I woke up, surprisingly, as normal, got dressed, had some Yerba Matte (okay, okay, and a handful of Motrin.. I was anticipating pain)... then we decided to just go... it was 6:30. Class was, of course, fairly empty since Tim is still out of town. It is so hot and humid that I was dripping by Sun Salutation 3... I've stopped doing 5As and Bs until I'm really tight, I only do 3 now days anyway and I felt sufficiently warm. Parivritta Trikonasana was an exercise in faith... that my body would remember the practice, that my mind could relinquish the squalor it's been living in and that I wouldn't topple over directly into The Australian's knees. Fortunately, I managed to come out without a scratch. I crapped out in Bakasana again today. I'm determined to maintain my status as The Only Person On The Planet (who practices yoga) Who Cannot Jump Out Of Bakasana. I win. I win. Seated came and went. I find it funny that now I think getting to the end of first series is just the mainstay of the practice... no longer the end... nothing to note or take note of. I debated, heavily, second series today. Having not practice, ingested a lot of crappy food and way more alcohol than was good for me, I thought perhaps I should go lite and just do first... it is Friday afterall... in the end my ego won out and I decided I would punish myself for my completely non-yogic attitude and force myself through Kapotasana (because let's face it, I wouldn't hesitate to engage second series if I knew that Kapotasana wasn't staring me down, waiting to mutilate what is left of my precious facade). With Jenna practicing next to me today I had quite a few opportunities to distract myself, push it off, wait it out (the fear slowly curving up my spine and into my head)... I watched as she learned tick-tocks from The Australian...then I watched when JMS defied gravity, literally, for what seemed an eternity in an effortless handstand, straight legged descent with his feeet barely hovering above ground 1-one-thousand, 2-one-thousand (man that looks easy), 3 one-thousand (how the hell does he do that, 4 one-thousand (the man is Jesus he walks on air).. and then effortlessly push back directly into chatarunga. He, apparently, had no clue why Kiran, Tiff and I all burst out laughing as we caught each other staring in utter disbelief at this display of the word Bandha. Driste... wasn't happening today.

The Australian came over twice to see if I was ready for Kapotasana. Twice I told him to go away. On the third time I gave an attempt... only after it was clear this attempt was going to be one for the "How did she get to this point in the practice books" The Australian called Rich over to tag team me... as soon as one pulled my hips and the other began on my arms I had a complete and utter freak out attack and shamelessly lifted up against their restraint and said "No... no ... no.. fear.. no ... fear... panic... no." The Australian, however, didn't give up... and told me to do it the "normal" way... and surprisingly this wasn't as hard... my hands were halfway up my feet... when I came up he told me that I'm not opening my chest at all and taking it all in my lower back (yep, that's where it hurts)... the battle is yet to come.

Surprisingly, though Kapotasana is a death march for me, backbending was quite easy today.

Then I went and got my toes painted RED with Jenna (I've never had red toes before)... ate at Jimbos... and am now going out on date night with The Husband. Who is ready..so ciao.