I went to the gym today and worked up the courage to talk to the gym attendant about what happened in and after Friday’s class. She asked me what happened in class and how I felt after, and took down a report that she said she’d give to the yoga instructor. I guess I wasn’t sure what I was trying to achieve by complaining. I didn’t feel any better after speaking to her– in fact, I felt worse. But maybe someone will learn from it.
I’m still in no shape to run (the short walks of my morning commute wore me out, even) so I grabbed a foam roller and tried to work out some of the soreness in my muscles– and promptly dissolved into tears. It’s not that the foam roller hurt– it was twingey, but not bad– but I just felt awful, frustrated and angry and sad and inadequate. So, roll and cry, roll and cry.
(tw: awful self-talk ahead!) Maybe this is all my fault. Because I am fat and weak. I couldn’t keep up in class because I am out of shape. The teacher said we need to engage our core– who am I kidding, I don’t have a core, I have a nasty flabby gut. No wonder I hurt myself. It doesn’t matter how hard I work, I’ll never be good at this.
All right, enough of that. Hoping my day will get better from here.