The strangest thing happened to me when I was in San Diego. I had already gone to class twice. I woke up on Thursday morning to take the 6:30 am class, and I did not want to go. At all. I don’t mean that I didn’t want to take the 6:30 class. I mean I didn’t want to go to class at all that day.
It’s rare for me to feel like this. Sometimes I am more excited about class than at other times, but on this day I was fighting myself to go. And the worst part was that on Thursday no one went with me. I had no one sitting in the hotel lobby expecting me to show up at the crack of dawn. It was all on me baby.
I got up, dragged myself into the bathroom, and proceeded to eat my Raw Crunch bar in the bathroom (so my rommie could sleep – oh, and she also said, “I can’t believe you’re really going,” as I got up). The entire time I thought about how much I wanted to go back to bed and never, ever go to class.
I made it to the studio. My mood did not improve. I told the instructor I still had jet lag (true) and wandered into the room.
Class began. On the second breath of the first set of the first breathing exercise I wanted to quit. I thought, “These people don’t know me. This instructor doesn’t know me. I could just sit down on the mat right now. I could just sit here for the entire class. I do not want to do this.”
But I know me. And while it would be fine to take a break, I couldn’t do it right then. I didn’t need it right then. I just wanted to so much. I just didn’t want to be in class!
Truth was, I had not slept well in about three days. I was going to bed early (9:00) because I was tired, but I was waking up at 3:00 and was wide awake at 4:00. It wasn’t making for great classes – especially at 6:30 in the morning.
After eagle I took a break. I sat down during the first set of standing head to knee. The rest of the class is a blur, but I slowly started feeling better.
On the way back to the hotel, I realized that I felt like I was in the middle of a challenge. Then I realized I had done class for awhile without a break. I counted up how many days in a row I had been to class. You know how many? Eight. This class that stunk, that I did not want to go to, was Day 8.
Where have we seen Day 8 before?
How weird is that?