Friday, July 15, 2011

bikram #4 & #5

Thursday 14 July 6pm, Prahran.

Wasn't sure how I was going to go after running group at 6.30am and then a day of internship, but this was by far my best class yet! Maybe it was the 4L of water I drank throughout the day. Maybe it was the excitement of having two giggling lulu friends joining me. Maybe the heat was different. Maybe it was the 5pm orange.

Who knows, but I felt great. Super sweaty but not like my insides were melting, like some of the first classes. Didn't get dizzy once, no headache, had great energy. I never even imagined it could feel this good. The room was pretty packed but with quite a few beginners. Triangle pose is still my worst, I can't even hold it long in a non-heated room. Friends L1 and L2 were pulling funny faces in the mirror so I nearly lost it a couple of times.

It was L1's first time at bikram and she did great. Red in the face but I swear she didn't even look sweaty, maybe her brand new super absorbent towel soaked it all up. I wished I could telepathically tell her how long there was to go, remembering how endless it felt at my first time.
L2 was really flexy but she only drank 2L of water today and had a couple of moments of panic when she thought she was about to lose her sushi in there. She had to lie down a lot.

The instructor spoke kind of quietly and monotonously, she sounded like a racing commentator. "Aaaand headtothekneeifyoucan'treachyourkneebendyourkneenowlockyourkneelastchancelockyourkneelockyourknee" etc. My intention for the class was to try and be the first one into each new pose, not lagging or dawdling to try and shorten the amount of time holding it, like I have so far. This attitude helped. I was walking on air afterwards.

*We shared a coconut water after. Forgotten the brand name but it was in a glass bottle. It tasted overwhelmingly like cornflakes and milk... ugh

Here are the postures. Looks easy enough, right? Not in 40 degrees C!

Tuesday 19 July 6pm, Prahran



Well, bikram kicked my butt tonight.

Had a small panic as we walked into the room tonight, it was very hot already. It stung and dried my eyeballs. L1 and L2 were with me again and I saw what I can only describe as sheer terror on their faces.  Sweat started dripping down my arms in the first breathing exercise, and I wasn't doing it properly for some reason- I had to cheat with extra inhales when we were supposed to be doing one long exhale. The skinny girl in front had a bit of a death rattle going on with her breathing, but everyone else at Prahran is comparatively quiet to those exorcisms I witnessed at Richmond. 

In the first half-moon pose with my arms straight up, my hands felt like they were being burnt from the hot air blasting in from the high vent behind me. I can't escape the vents anywhere! I couldn't wait to bend sideways to get my hands out of the furnace. But bending was where The Troubles began. After bending forward to touch the mat, and standing up slowly, I got really dizzy and my eyes went black, so I stood there swaying -waiting and waiting for my vision to come back- and my hearing went muffled too. Felt like I was underwater. It seemed to go on for ages and freaked me out a bit, and I really didn't want to fall over, so sat down. In the first pose!! Whyyy?!!? I must have been the first one down, and after such a great class last week, I don't understand. I'd prepared exactly the same: drank 4L (2L water and 2L weak Gatorade) during the day, had an early healthy lunch, and then an orange at 4.30pm. Pissed me off because I'd understand being dizzy if I hadn't drunk enough today, as they explain  "It's not unusual to feel dizzy or nauseous... Practicing yoga in a heated room reveals to us our present condition, and inspires us take much better care of ourselves" but I don't know how I could have prepared any better for today

The room was packed with over 40 people. The instructor was the guy in board shorts I'd had for #3 at Richmond. He said more good things about changing your attitude, trying harder, making the choice, but I was struggling so bad that I couldn't even muster a smile when I tried. I dawdled and sat out and lay down slowly and sat up slowly. I was hating it, every time I stood up I got dizzy and saw black again. A beginner tried to leave but was convinced to stay- she wasn't happy about it! Then he joked that there were only 15 poses to go (when there were really only 2 to go) and she believed him, and moaned. My two beautiful lulu's were struggling too.

My intention for the class was not to keep wiping the sweat off my face, because it would just come back anyway. Made an effort to do this but kept finding myself doing it unconsciously. Sweatier than normal? Hotter than normal? I could see continuous rivers pouring off everyone. Kneeling down for a lot of poses I watched skinny girl in front, and her bike shorts were running like a tap. That's only a slight exaggeration. Sitting here on the couch typing with cold fingers it's hard even for me to remember how hot it was in there. It's like another world. A weird, fluorescent, intense, smelly world. Imagine a sauna in a South East Asian country, but with a very distinctive odour blend of sweat, carpet, and incense. Eau de Bikram. Bike shorts soaked. Singlet soaked. Towel soaked. Pressing hot face to dripping knees. When the instructor walked by me and clapped his hands I felt droplets rain down on my back.


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There were some poor people in cotton t-shirts and full length leggings, I don't even know how they stayed in the room!

So, I think I'm a bit over Bikram for the moment. I've made it sound atrocious, I know. If I'd had a great class last night, so two in a row, I think I would be hooked and buying a monthly pass. It felt amazing last Thursday. But just the fact that I couldn't have prepared my body for it any better, it feels like the luck of the draw if I'm going to have a good class or not. I know I'll forget the pain and crave doing it again, in a month or so, looking for that euphoric feeling I got last week. Time heals all wounds. Or maybe I'm just a sucker for punishment. 
We don't look as hot as we were!




Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Notes On a Birthday Alone [but not lonely]

Blue Lagoon

For my round-the-world backpacking trip last year I pre-booked plane tickets between continents and left everything else unplanned. I knew exactly which day I would leave Asia for Europe, Europe for America etc, but my movements within the continents were left open to spontaneity. A nice mixture of structure and freedom. Planning these flight dates, I realized I would be spending my first birthday on my own; and as a present to myself decided it would be spent somewhere mysterious, exciting, alien. How about Iceland as a week-long stopover between Europe and America.


Viking Cemetery in Reykjavik
Stone cairns at Gullfoss, glacier behind
I didn't know anything about Iceland.
I didn't know anyone who had been to Iceland.
Looking at a map, it's pretty much the furthest away from home I could be! This was an allure. I had grown up with wonderful family and friends who always spoilt me on my birthday. But I wanted to be the kind of girl who spends a birthday alone, adventuring, in Iceland. My heart pumped harder whenever I thought about it.
American continental plate

People looked at me with pity when I told them yes, I was travelling solo, and yes, I would have a birthday alone. Yes, I chose this for myself. I was excited. I felt like I was running a private little social experiment: what happens if you have a birthday without anyone knowing? If no-one knows it’s your birthday, do you still get older? I wasn’t worried at all. Solo travel isn’t lonely; I made friends everywhere I went. I never got homesick. My birthday would be a mystery adventure... who would I meet and what would I see?


"I guess not many people would choose to have a birthday on their own," I remarked to Christine, an elderly family friend who put me up in London, the night before flying to Iceland. I knew it was weird, this desire my brain had. But she —longtime solo traveller after her husband died— got me. "Well, lots of people have never done anything alone." she said. "It's good for your soul."
Blue Lagoon
And so. The sun rose on the morning of September 22, 2010, just like any other day. But I'd been away from home for five months already, and I was on my own in a bunk bed in the most northerly capital city in the world. I snuck downstairs early, before anyone else woke up, to sign into the Skype date I'd set up with my parents. It was something like 6.15am in Reykjavik, 4.15pm in Melbourne, Australia. They'd already had my birthday without me.

Skype wasn't working; the Internet was down. Strangely, I began feeling a bit wobbly. I gritted my teeth, kept re-starting the modem and signing in and out. Finally Mum's name was in the 'on-line' list. I almost cried at her reliability and familiarity. She was there for me. Then something went wrong with the sound. They could hear me, but I couldn't hear them, so they had to type.

My throat choked up with the frustration. I didn't know I was going to be this emotional. Tears welled dangerously when Dad meticulously typed, "You look a bit tired, or are you feeling sad?" I wanted to be home with them, not sitting at a computer in an empty lobby before it was even light outside. My little cousins all came into the screen and I felt awkward talking to myself, silence ringing in my headphones. A lag meant that I could see them laughing mutely a good couple of seconds after I'd stopped talking. I felt so far away. I couldn't wait to sign out.

Then, Boyfriend-At-The-Time failed to sign in at the agreed hour. I was shaky and miserable and homesick for the first time and just wanted to hear his voice. He finally signed in and Skyped my iPhone three minutes before I had to leave on a bus. No video, but at least the sound worked. "Sorry babe!" he said. "Have an awesome birthday!" I kicked myself for even being tempted to stay and talk to him rather than hop on the tour bus. I was sad, and mad at him for not being online earlier, and confused at my own emotions.

Rift Valley
"This is what you wanted, this is where you wanted to be" I repeated to myself over and over until the incredible landscapes swallowed up my sadness and I was filled with that travelling feeling that the world is truly magical and weird and amazing, and here I am in it.

I made friends with two English girls from my hostel on the tour, but didn't tell them it was my birthday straight away. It dawned on me that there must be some sort of etiquette. I felt like if I said, “Oh hey, it's my birthday and I'm all alone and now I'm friends with you” then it would be like I was imposing some responsibility on them to celebrate with me, or do something for me. Maybe I was over-thinking it. But I told them eventually, because they had wondered why I got up so early from our dorm. They cracked genuine smiles, said “Oh really! Happy birthday!” and gave me a squeeze. They asked about my age, my travels. They were both on their way home from an internship abroad in New York. We were mesmerised together by the bubbling hot water pools, the lava fields, the spouting geysers. Alone but not lonely; I was grateful for them.
Gullfoss
Standing at a waterfall called Gullfoss I had a mini-revelation. The girls had retreated to the bus because of the cold, but I was high on the energy of the place and felt on top of the world. Below me the raging waterfall crashed down two rocky drops, and rainbows spurted out of the canyon. To my left was a flat white horizon of crawling glacier; straight ahead stood snowy, craggy mountains; and to my right looked like a scene out of a Wild Western: dry desert, wild horses, strange rock formations. The cold, clean air meant I could see for miles. I felt like I was on a farm, in the Grand Canyon, on the moon.

This was my birthday. I would always keep this memory, untainted by changing relationships, as my own. No matter what happened in my life, I would always have turned 22 in Iceland, in this dreamscape, with messages of love from home buzzing in my pocket.

Wild horses
Later that evening I got chatting with an American guy in the kitchen, and instead of dragging strangers out on the town for a birthday drink I decided to go driving with him into the country to look for Northern Lights. I had thought that September was too early to hope to see the lights, but apparently they had been out in force recently! This had been on my bucket list since I read His Dark Materials in high school, and I couldn't contain my excitement. Imagine seeing the Aurora on my birthday!

It was 0 degrees Celsius when we drove out of the city lights and into an eerie fantasy movie. A full moon and clear sky showed the stars in warped positions at this strange latitude. Lakes gleamed silver, mountains loomed in the darkness, and solitary triangular cottages dotted the empty lava fields. The landscape played tricks on the eye, and especially on my rampant imagination. Rock formations, shadows, holes and hills turned into creatures running beside the car; no wonder their mythology is full of elves and trolls and witches.

I thought the moon was too bright for the Lights to be seen, but at one moment a misty white streak appeared; so subtle that it could have been a trick of the eye. "This is it!" he said. We just had to wait to see if it would suddenly burn green or purple. Instead, it dissolved. I wasn't even disappointed. I was inspired and excited and exhausted: I'd stretched my birthday out from the ten Australian hours before I woke up (when friends wrote messages of love and support on my Facebook wall), to midnight Iceland time out here in the fantastic darkness.
For the first time on a birthday I actually felt older, but in a good way.
Bright moon and Jupiter

Twenty birthdays in Spring in the Southern Hemisphere. Two birthdays in Autumn (I turned 16 in France.) One birthday alone. I know how it feels now and I never need to do it again, but I think it was good for me. Now I can really appreciate having loved ones around me on my special day. And while I’ve forgotten how I’ve spent most of my birthdays (in restaurants and movies and bars) I know that despite having no presents, no cake, and no singing; this one I’ll remember for the rest of my life.

How about you? Have you ever spent a birthday alone?

Monday, July 11, 2011

porn for book lovers

Just discovered this photo blog dedicated to bookshelves. Love it. Can't copy the photos but here's one of my favourites:
http://bookshelfporn.com/post/5763400433

I've wanted a rolling ladder on a bookshelf ever since Beauty and the Beast.

ahh childhood dreams..
Window seats, couches, big windows letting in natural light, a fire, rolling ladders.... a girl can dream :)


Here are some more cool bookshelves.
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Thursday, July 7, 2011

qanda 7/7/11

Today we did our very last interview for the Lentil as Anything book. It was with an 18 year old guy from Afghanistan, who'd fled civil war with his family (when he was seven) to live illegally in Pakistan for ten years. Then as a 17 year old he hooked up with a people smuggler who helped him (alone) to Indonesia and then get on a boat to Australia. It had four holes and they only kept afloat because a generator pumped the water out continuously.  He was detained as an asylum seeker on Christmas Island, given a protection visa, and moved to Melbourne. He then became homeless and lived on the streets for eight months, missing his family. He lived through all of this, alone, and he's younger than my younger brother. All he wants now is to get a job to send money to his family to allow them to follow him here.

I was going to have an early night and read my book, but then I got sucked into the Q & A special 'Leaky Boat' discussion because they were showing Afghan asylum seekers and that just seemed like too much of a coincidence. What a debate. I hate politicians and politics in general, to me they're all catty bullies who never answer the question. But this issue is so complex and fascinating and emotional. There are such extreme viewpoints. If only we could solve the problems of civil war, persecution and poverty in the source nations that refugees flee from.
I honestly think we will be having this same debate for the rest of my life.



Here are some tweets.

I reckon we'll be looking back in 20 yrs & thinking - only 43 million displaced people! And we thought we had a problem! 


Still reeling from seeing Raye accuse a Hazara refuguee who got on a boat to flee GENOCIDAL MASSACRES of not being "needy" enough. 


Why are we willing to treat cattle better than people? 


Can't they just save time and literally run around in circles? Might be less embarrassing for tonight's panel members.  


Listen to Raye, she met some black people once, and they were really nice and they deserve to come to Australia over everyone else. 


How dare people want to come to a liberal democratic country with a good quality of life who honour international refugee conventions 

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

sweat. bikram #1-#3

I wanted to try Bikram yoga to see if it was 'my thing' or not. And so I'd be able to talk about it at work (in a yoga clothes shop) with people who want to try it. And I wanted a challenge. The health benefits sounded great:

•Tones and strengthens all major muscle groups down to the bone
• Increases balance, strength, and flexibility
• Builds cardiovascular strength & respiratory balance
• Promotes weight loss (the general consensus states that one class burns around 700 - 800 calories)
• Strengthens and restores all systems of the body
• Reduces the risk of sports injury and accelerates recovery time
• Heavy sweating helps detoxify the body
• Increases concentration and focus power
• Improves productivity & energy level
• Reduces the effects of stress
• Makes your skin glow
• Brings all systems into perfect balance, mind, body, and soul


I heard horror story after horror story about nausea, dizziness, exhaustion. Everyone said you need to try it at least three times, because it's such a shock at the start you won't know if you actually like it or not. So I booked in a date with an angel from work who would accompany me for my first time!

Bikram Yoga Melbourne

Take 1: Friday 1st July 6pm
A and I burst into the hidden entrance on Bridge Rd out of the freezing cold winter evening. The stairway smells like salty, musty sweat. I sign in and am told not to 'try and break any records' but just commit to staying in the room for the whole 90 mins. We strip down to bike shorts and singlets and join the silent procession of half-naked people entering the hot, dark room. Everyone is so serious. We lay down in the back row and I feel like I could easily fall asleep. In my head I'm sunbaking on a tropical island, ignoring the smell and the mats flapping around me and the rain beating on the windows.

I'm sweating before they even turn the lights on.

The next 90 mins is a disorientating blur. I hate the first breathing exercise; everyone is inhaling and exhaling noisily so it sounds like the devil is coming out of them. A roomfull of exorcisms but I can't make it work for me, I can't breathe that long, my arms hurt already, I fake it, I don't like it.

The badass instructor chick is peroxide blonde and covered in tattoos and she barks orders aggressively "push push push further change," I'm pouring buckets of sweat so I can't even grip my own feet or legs, I seem a step behind everyone, I'm lightheaded and see spots whenever I stand up, and I honestly can't wait until it finishes. Having A beside me was so supportive though, I was so glad she came.

I didn't know what was coming next, I didn't know how hard I could push myself, I didn't know how long there was to go, I didn't know when the hardest bit would be. The ninety minutes stretched into an eternity. I got a thumping headache before we finished the standing sequence, despite having drunk more than 2L a day for the past three days. But I was happy that I was able to attempt all the poses, while some of the other first-timers spent a lot of time lying down because they hadn't drunk enough water.

I sculled about 1.5L of Gatorade when I got home, and that got rid of my headache. I don't like Bikram very much. But I'm still planning on trying it a few more times next week.

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Take 2: Tuesday 5th July 6pm
I'm at home all day so it's easy to keep refilling my water bottle. I chug down 4.5 X 750mLs, the last 1.5 bottles being weak Gatorade. I was going to go at 4pm but didn't feel like I'd digested my lunch by then, so put it off til 6pm. Arriving there I'm amazed at the people signing into their 60 day challenge. Intense.

Tonight's instructor is a very attractive half-naked man, who I have heard people talk about (for his looks) at work. His reputation doesn't disappoint. But I'm kicking myself for a massive blonde moment- I've cleverly placed myself in front of an air vent, thinking that that's where the nice cold air will come in to cool the room down when it gets a bit hot. Sure, but it's also where the hot air comes in for most of the class. I'm sweltering, hotter than last time. My face is burning bright red and I have to stop myself panting through the mouth. The best advice I'd gotten was not to panic, just breathe slowly through your nose!

The breathing exercise works a bit better tonight. If I make the noise and breathe slower then the breath can actually last for ages. I get exhausted around the 'balancing stick' pose and then have to kneel down in the end of 'triangle' pose. But I'm pulling harder and trying for longer, because I know it's not going to kill me, and that there's not long to go in the standing sequence.

I feel pretty great afterwards. There's some cool moments when you're looking in the mirror and the whole room of 40+ people moves as one, the energy was great and I didn't get a headache. Wiped out though, I couldn't get off the couch when I got home, I don't know if I'd be able to do a class in the morning before work because then I'd be tired all day?

Take 3: Wednesday 6th July 6pm
Again I was planning on going at 4pm but put it off until 6pm because I was still feeling full. I'm pretty stiff from last night's class in my hammys, quads and back. I get in there quite early to bag a good mat spot away from the heating vent, lie down in the dark, and accidently drift off into a weird half-dream. These early mornings are getting to me, I can fall asleep anywhere!

Tonight's instructor is wearing Hawaiian board shorts. I was dizzy right from the start in half-moon pose. Had to kneel down a couple of times and again really struggled towards the end of the standing sequence. The girl next to me was in worse shape; she lay down a lot and ran out of the room at the end of the standing sequence, but the instructor persuaded her to come back in. You've got to have no ego in this class. The woman in front of me (in the 'experienced people' row) kept looking disgusted at herself as she kept having to lie down. Even if you're a pro it looks like you can have bad days.

The instructor said some good things, like 'make the choice' not to let your hands slip, not to fall out, to be the first person to stand up not the last, etc. To change your thinking from trying to make things easier or shorter, to challenging yourself to do it properly. He also kept saying 'smile!' which was funny because we all look like we're going through hell and hating it, but the truth is we're there by choice!

Don't honestly enjoy it while I'm in there, but as soon as it ends I love it! I feel like it could be addictive.

On a side note, I wore the lululemon 'No Limits' tank which I'd worn to a hot Barkan class before and was fine there, but there is too much material on it for Bikram. Too hot. It got soaked and weighed me down.

Attempts #4 and #5 are here.

Sunday, July 3, 2011

1egg1world: get Virgin laid!

My friend started a charity- 1egg1world- with his mates. It's like the one where a red paperclip was up-traded, swapped item for item, until he ended up with a house.

This one started with an egg, laid by a chook called Loco. They are aiming to trade the egg to an item worth $1 million, which will be divided and donated to three different charities. The team have done 9 'up-trades' so far (including Boggle, an old car, a signed Donald Bradman cricket bat, etc..) and right now the item is a portrait of Cathy Freeman by Archibald Prize winning artist Craig Ruddy.  It's valued somewhere between $80,000- $120,000 so they're well on their way!
Here is the 1egg team, with the chook, the artist, the portrait, and Cathy Freeman

Richard Branson We Want Your Rocket!

The boys' new 'Get Virgin Laid' campaign is to raise enough awareness to get Richard Branson's attention. They are literally aiming for the stars, wanting to trade for a seat or two on a Virgin Galactic flight to space!


They need all the people power they can to raise awareness, so invite everyone you know to come to:


You don't need to sing or dance, but I think it will involve balloons. All you gotta do is rock up for about an hour. Here's the facebook event, the campaign website, and the charity website.


You can also change your facebook profile picture to this, to raise awareness for the Flash mob!