Spent the bulk of the morning working on the RISE telemovie sponsorship wishlist and then rushing all over western Singapore trying to complete all my meetups. I netted in both a good amount of professional work and personal Carousell business today. I AM HAPPY!
I came home exhausted as fuck, so what better way to punish my body by putting it through basic beginner pole moves and grueling self-worth questioning when I can't do said beginner moves!
Self-learning is not easy.
I used to think anything can be taught from YouTube. And as such, I didn't bother attempting classes/ courses. But only after taking the plunge and going for actual classes, did I realize that while YouTube can teach you moves, it cannot teach you form and it cannot teach you discipline.
My yoga is at Suntec, a distance away from where I live. I go there for an hour long class. My pole is at Tanjong Pajar, pretty near where I live. I go there for a 45 min class. My investment is both my time and course cost. And hence I am more motivated to do well.
Still, now that I know, I'll work on it.
On a separate note, most of my moves in the video aren't very impressive. I took a three-week hiatus because of work's instability and the term break so I did not learn any new moves from any instructor and relied solely on YouTube videos.
Anyway, tired and sore from pole training, I looked up and realized it was time for my yoga therapy. I was this close to giving up but I thought, "Aiya go there and give up la, don't give up here," and holy fuck am I glad I did.
Yoga therapy turned out to be one of the most boring lessons in the history of mankind LOL.
And me being me, I said it as much to the instructor. I told him the class was so calming (I switched it from boring last minute) that I kinda dozed off in one of the poses and he laughed and directed us to the studio next door holding hot yoga. SO ME AND PAM CRASHED IT WHOOP!
And it was amazing.
Rina, the instructor, wasn't like our usual hot yoga instructor. She was forceful, she was flexible, she took no halfhearted moves for answer and she could've been ex-military for all I know.
"HIGHER."
"STRAIGHT. I WANT STRAIGHT."
"MORE. MORE. MORE."
"SHOULDERS BACK. ALL THE WAY BACK."
"NOW HOLD, HOLD, HOLD, DON'T LET GO."
And I fucking loved it.
It is in my nature, I love being pushed LOL. I hate lazy instructors who don't push your limits. Come on, break me, don't worry! In fact, I'm happiest when you terrorize my limits and break me in half in the process.
Rina was crazily dedicated too. She went by one by one to push our backs down or tug our shoulders back. She yelled at every move we couldn't do and pushed us to challenge limits. I am writing this post the next day with a body ache the size of Clementi but fuck was it worth it.
I want more of her classes!!!
I am a satisfied woman.
Going through all these exercises left me with little energy so I passed on meeting Gabriel, something I've been doing more recently ever since the induction of all these activities in my life. But oh well, everything's a balance, I cannot question it.
I stopped losing weight. I did. I stopped taking the pill. It wasn't that hard. It was a very conscious decision. I used to wake up and tell myself ok, time to fucking push my eating limits and lose 0.3kg by the end of today.
Now my thought process goes like this: if I starve, I will fall off the pole because I have no energy. If I starve, I will do all my yoga poses only halfheartedly because the headaches will plague me. If I starve, I cannot proceed to fulfill my Carousell meetup schedule in good mental health.
And so to gain back my mind and body control from this pill, I gave it up.
I'm back to a disgusting 40kg.
I can over-eat and under-exercise but for the past three days, it hasn't showed much on the scale. To the scale, I'm stuck at 40kg no matter what I do now. But my mental distress is all-consuming. I look at my thighs and swear they grew. I look at my arms and fight the urge to rip them off.
But at the same time, I have been able to go further and lower in my yoga poses. I have been able to reach higher and spin longer in my pole practice. I have developed core training inculcating the pole that truly requires a prolonged dry palm grip (the pill gives me sweaty palms) and general strength.
And so, I'll take it.
In exchange for strength (and otah), I'll do it.
But in a week's time I'll probably push myself again and attempt to do everything forementioned, but this time on a 70% filled stomach. And then I'll push it down to 50%. And then 30%. And then I'll die and this will become a bestselling journal about The Girl who Wanted to be Heidi Klum-skinny so bad, She Died.
Yeah.
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