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You know when you’re tired and take a star-shaped nap on the geotextile of the unfinished outdoor school? I did that today. When I woke up, I thought, “Well, while I’m down here, I might as well find out if I can put my feet over my head.”
I can.
It went something like this …
Ouch ouch ouch why is my body making bizarre crunching noises when all I’m doing is lying on the floor? I haven’t bloody moved yet.
Okay.
My brain most definitely told my feet to get up in the air but nothing is happening. It is like my feet have performance anxiety.
Or the connection from my brain is broken again.
Oh!
Here we go!
They are in the air!
We have lift-off.
My hands are on the small of my back and my feet are waving about in that mad upside-down air cycling exercise that reminds me of cycling home drunk in the dark with no lights and spectacularly landing in a drainage ditch due to not bending when the road bended.
I thought I was soooo clever cycling with my face pointing skywards. I figured the firmament would be lighter than the tree line.
I failed to take clouds into consideration.
Imagine my surprise when the road disappeared causing my legs to flip over my head and all of me to flomp into leafy sludge.
An unidentified creature slithered away.
Great!
Now I am all turned around. Discombobulated.
Zero idea of which way is home.
Bugger!
Whooo hooooo!
Car lights!
I can see my house from here!
Much easier than the time I tried rollerblading home in pitch darkness and had to feel my way using the cobblestoned gutter as my guide.
Is it normal for my neck to feel like it’s gonna fall off? Oh shit here we go …
Slowly, slowly slip a disc.
Result!
My knees are now in my face.
Wow. My kneecaps sit perfectly on my eyeballs. Like they were made to be here. If I push a little bit I can see stars. An upside-down ocular massage. Fix my eyesight and put my back out in one fell swoop.
Oh my god … oh my toes .. my toes are touching the floor behind my head. I may feel like I am choking and sound like a dying Darlek but how cool is this!? Apparently, this is called Plow Pose.
Presumably because if you dragged me along my toes would be capable of turning soil. I think not, yogi guru.The best I can manage is a pencil up my bum and call me a harrow.
What do I do if a visitor arrives now? Do I alert them to my predicament or stay REALLY still and hope I blend with the black fabric of my current reality?
I wonder? What happens if I try relaxing … oh I can actually Oh!… ooooooo … that’s quite nice. I mean … neck feels like it’s gonna break … but other than that, weirdly nice.
If your idea of nice is being a human fortune cookie.
You don’t even need to snap me open. I am halfway there.
My cookie says:
“All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”
J R R Tolkien
Mmm?
Should I be doubting my current decision?
No! I should be embracing it!
I SHOULD be embracing my upside-down legs as my spine makes dubious noises.
I SHOULD be trying new things regardless of how uncomfortable they are at first.
I should be figuring out how to return to star-shaped.
And I may have discovered a flaw in my flexi-bendi plan. I can’t move.
My bum is sunwards, my bunions are bent painfully, and I need a pee.
The whole point of competitive yoga is to beat that French woman, Jeanne Something Or Other who lived to a 122. Not to be found dead with my arse over my elbows.
This position is beginning to remind me of something else…
Of course!
… lying in another ditch. Quelle surprise.
Sober this time, though.
With an upside-down horse above me straddling the trench.
“Take the posh showjumper for a gallop in the forest”, says my coach. “It will be a nice change for him.”
“Jump the ditches on either side of that fire break”, says my coach. “Don’t worry about the nearly vertical wall of earth on the other side.”
My Welshie, rugged and goat-like in his nimblicity, would have managed. But could a coddled creature do it?
Nope. Could he fuck as like.
Posh Horse made zero effort to stop himself from sliding backwards and toppled over like a plastic toy in the pudgy hands of a toddler.
Hey Ho! We live and learn. Nowadays I would have told the coach to sod off.
Talking of making no attempts to save oneself, I ought to take another bash at getting myself untangled from myself.
I wonder if I should have been more mindful of my body’s limits. I think I am doing permanent damage to my windpipe.
As nice as it is to reminisce on all the times I have been inverted it is nearly feeding time at the zoo. Plus the longer I am down here the greater the chances of a Shetland finding me and using me as a chair.
Although, I am enjoying this quiet moment of reflection. Are there any life problems I can ponder?
Wellies!
Can I put them in the oven to soften the rubber? Bear with me here. I may be having a moment of genius.
You know when you see cracks appearing and it is only a question of time before they split open letting freezing poopy mud envelope your tootsies?
I give you wellie remoulds!
Just air out the oven afterwards. No one likes rubber-tasting tarts …
Apart from vicars.
Next exercises – Arm Balances and Hand Stands. I shall be wearing my riding hat for these.
