I have a sprained hamstring and a discombobulated shoulder, both results of reckless abandon at jiu jitsu. I attribute this to old age, I am no longer that twenty one year old blessed with youthful recovery time. Despite all of this I'm unusually obdurate about attending the inaugural International Yoga event.
My left eye opens at 6:30 am. I rub my face, groan and desultorily search for my phone. First thing's first, I need to stop the alarm. Phone, found. Alarm, off. I open my second eye and peek under the curtains. The sky is cloudy. Ok, that adjective fails to paint the picture, the sky is threatening. It's a struggle prising myself out of bed at this ungodly hour. There's messages on my phone from a few hours ago - "Out?" - sender, last seen online 5:32 am.
Decision made. I have breakfast and put on my yoga gear. 7:30 I reach to open the front door, my entire apartment is enveloped in darkness and the early morning silence is replaced by a distinct muffled roar. It's raining. Wait, no, it's absolutely pissing down. Well, can't say I didn't try! I change back into my PJs and crawl back into bed. I can't sleep, the rain stops.
My life is unnecessarily complicated, the internal monologue that guides and directs me down paths is fraught with indecision and supreme laziness. I finally arrive at Sun Yat Sen, the field is filled with people. It's an excellent turn out, especially considering the weather. There's lots of families, a plenty of people from all walks of life.
I manage to grab one of the last remaining yoga mats. The event has not managed to escape the precipitate precipitation - I spend the next five minutes wringing the water out of the yoga mat. It's a relaxing yoga sessions, basic postures with nothing too intense. The final pose is savasana. I lie there on my back with my eyes closed whilst listening to the peaceful soundtrack being played over the loudspeakers. I feel the drops of water fall onto my face, the rain comes down steadily, some people stand and make for shelter, I'm already wet and I slowly drifting back into sleep ...
My left eye opens at 6:30 am. I rub my face, groan and desultorily search for my phone. First thing's first, I need to stop the alarm. Phone, found. Alarm, off. I open my second eye and peek under the curtains. The sky is cloudy. Ok, that adjective fails to paint the picture, the sky is threatening. It's a struggle prising myself out of bed at this ungodly hour. There's messages on my phone from a few hours ago - "Out?" - sender, last seen online 5:32 am.
Decision made. I have breakfast and put on my yoga gear. 7:30 I reach to open the front door, my entire apartment is enveloped in darkness and the early morning silence is replaced by a distinct muffled roar. It's raining. Wait, no, it's absolutely pissing down. Well, can't say I didn't try! I change back into my PJs and crawl back into bed. I can't sleep, the rain stops.
My life is unnecessarily complicated, the internal monologue that guides and directs me down paths is fraught with indecision and supreme laziness. I finally arrive at Sun Yat Sen, the field is filled with people. It's an excellent turn out, especially considering the weather. There's lots of families, a plenty of people from all walks of life.
I manage to grab one of the last remaining yoga mats. The event has not managed to escape the precipitate precipitation - I spend the next five minutes wringing the water out of the yoga mat. It's a relaxing yoga sessions, basic postures with nothing too intense. The final pose is savasana. I lie there on my back with my eyes closed whilst listening to the peaceful soundtrack being played over the loudspeakers. I feel the drops of water fall onto my face, the rain comes down steadily, some people stand and make for shelter, I'm already wet and I slowly drifting back into sleep ...
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