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Sunday morning I woke up in LGID’s very soft, very comfortable bed with him by my side not cuddling, just crashed out like I did when I deposited myself there the night before when I talked to Bob.  Somewhere in the middle of the night, LGID told me to get under the covers cos I fell asleep atop the bedclothes in my pants.  I stripped down to my shorts and got in.  I was so beat up from sailing and running and fine Scottish Whiskey, Wine and Meat that I’d have to say that night I slept the best in a very long time.  I had been dealing with my depression, but I’ve been working through it by talking about it and hanging out with friends rather than getting so lost in my self and dwelling in the realms of destructive avoidance.

LGID got up and made the coffee.  I laid there, really feeling like I got hit by a truck.  The metaphor for the way I felt physically:  like a strawberry growing in the curb, that just got run over by an SUV.  I got up and retrieved my clothes and still couldn’t find a sock.  When LGID and I get together, something always goes missing.  We call it the Vortex and it is really strange and the Vortex isn’t confined to us, rather it gains strength and lashes out at other people within its orbit and displaces their belongings.  Its rather strange.  So I finished up my coffee and walked down the street back home, looked around and was all, its nice in here.

Went back here, Cyber Central, my office, caught up with my social networks and tried, just tried to catch up on my blogging here.  I’ve already realized it is better to journal right away because its more concise, for instance, I’m not talking about the workout here, I’m talking about the whole day.  As the day winded out I thought that the best thing to do, even though I was scheduled for active rest was to attend Naked Yoga For Men for the first time in a long time.  Really the first time since I began the new training regime after Easter.

I’m really open about being a Naturist in appropriately sanctioned spaces: a nude beach, a hot spring resort, my own home, locker room.  I do have issues with my body and know I’m not perfect which is why I feel comfortable around others who are nude, especially older and overweight bodies that phobic people would say should not be nude.  One thing that is totally disgusting to me is hanging out in a wet swimsuit.  A wet Speedo is barely tolerable, wet board shorts are horribly unbearable.  Add to that I have a sensitivity to cold moisture where exposure to wet cold on my skin causes an allergic reaction where I break out in hives at the contact point.  I have this problem when I run on cold mornings and I do antihistamines to minimize it, however the drugs I have been prescribed, Fluonaze (?) and Loratidine seemed to have worked better than the over the counter Walgreen’s brand antihistamines.  So Naked Yoga would naturally appeal to me.  Who wants to hang out in soggy stinky yoga tights?

I like to ride my bike to Yoga practice, but I have to deal with my safety lights and stowing my mat in a backpack, I really couldn’t deal with all that so I planned on driving.  I took a shower using an organic witchy soap that I concocted myself from things  in my garden and pantry:  Sage, Rosemary, Greek Mint, Olive Oil and Table Salt in a base of Dr. Bronner’s Hemp Baby Shampoo.  The Olive Oil makes a nice lather combined with the Soap, and the herbs have a very gentle fragrance and all the witchy benefits, the Salt is a detoxifier and an exfoliant.  However, the Olive Oil congeals so I have to poke it down to get to the good soap.  I arrived quite early and other yogis were lined up in the hall outside the sunroom.  Because it was so hot and Bikrammy muggy from the studio downstairs I sat around the corner by the open window.  One yogi commented to me, “Sitting all by yourself?”  “I’m a loner.” I replied and sat on my rolled up mat and tried to nap/meditate.

The instructor came and let us all in.  I am experienced enough to go get my favorite spot in the back underneath the ceiling fan, come back to the desk and pay, then go to my mat and take off my clothes.  I had to donate a check, cos by then I still had no money and hadn’t deposited my paycheck.  The class was pretty full, 4 across, about 20 yogis all men my age or older.  Thought how it is a generational thing because my generation is way more comfortable being naked than kids today.  I was born at the tail end of the hippy era and still identify as one.

As far as the practice was concerned, I felt some new strengths in my body from my training, felt some stiffnesses and loss of flexibility in others.  I know that Yoga is crucial to my training and it is good for me mentally as well as physically.  Still I was able to do some things that impressed me, for instance handstands.  I found new strength in my core and strength in my legs.  My upper body is still weak, and I need to address that in the weight room.

There was a portion of partner work, which I usually dread, but this wasn’t so bad.  One laid on the floor with his hands behind his head while the partner bent over top of him and pulled him up by the elbows, stretching the lower back.  My partner was cute, Mark, and he was a gentleman by not having his balls dangle on my butt but giving our bodies an appropriate distance.  I kind of felt like a cop when I was stretching him, “Hands behind your head, I’m gonna pull!”

I’m glad to be back at Yoga and have to make a conscious effort to attend more.

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2 Comments

  1. I’m even deeper in that “end of the hippy era”, but I’d still not do naked yoga – there are just some poses for which I don’t want to even imagine… besides I HATE the feeling of being sweaty and nothing on to sop up the sweat… ick. LOL

  2. I know, we talked about it on myspace. I on the other hand feel just the opposite, lol! I love the feeling of being sweaty and letting it just drip off and there are just some positions I could never imagine doing in clothes. I’m still not trying to convince you however, Naked Yoga is really growing in popularity amongst all genders.


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