One of the great things about being polyphasic is that my friends are on awful sleep schedules. Some of them stay up until 7am, others wake up at 7am, so at any given time there's a good chance that I have awake friends.
This morning at 7am Hayden calls and asks if I want to do yoga with him. Of course I do. This is the hot yoga, "Bikram", which literally translated means "the most severe torture known to man that somehow hotties can handle".
I hop in my car and head to his place. Hmm. The ride seems a little rough. Not to get too sidetracked, but I thought it would be really cool if I bought 19" rims instead of the stock 16" rims. It looks fantastic, but these stupid wheels have given me nothing but trouble. Literally every single one has gone flat, they have damaged my brakes, etc.
I notice a woman waving at me frantically as she walks her dog. I shrug it off, assuming it's my charming good looks. Never a good assumption.
I get to a red light and decide to hop out of the car to make sure my stupid tires are ok. They're not. The front left one is dead flat.
Luckily I had one of those fix-a-flat cans in my trunk. Unluckily, it was 30 degrees out and I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. Freezing, I get the can and try to hook it up to the tire. Instead of the delicious goo going into the tire like it's supposed to, it flies all over the place and doesn't inflate the tire.
That's ok. I'm used to tire disasters. I also have an air compressor that hooks up to my car. It gets the tire halfway full and then a fuse breaks in the car and it stops working. I'm so used to automotive disaster that I actually have spare fuses, but I was so cold that I didn't want to fumble around under the hood to fix it. Fortunately my car has another cigarette lighter jack in the back and I used that to fill the rest of the tire.
It's now too late to go to yoga, so I return home. Hayden tells me we can go to a different class at 10.
After my 9am nap I pile into the freshly repaired car and head to Haydens house. We arrive at the Yoga studio a couple minutes early and the instructor seems displeased that we aren't there more early. Yogis are really into being early. I actually took Hatha yoga for a month last year and no matter how early I came it always seemed like everyone else was there before me.
We get rushed through the signing in process and take our spots in the studio. It's heated, but it doesn't seem that bad. I can handle this - I was actually one of the better students at my other yoga class.
What my other yoga class lacked, also one of my main reasons for signing up, was hotties. It was mostly older women or larger women that really needed some yoga. This yoga class had a couple hotties, so I was excited about that. I want a girlfriend again and I think that a girl who's into yoga would be perfect.
We begin the postures. I'm determined to demonstrate that I'm actually good at yoga and not just some guy who is there for the hotties. Somehow the truth usually has a way of coming out, though. I'm bending deep into the postures, doing great. By posture number two I'm wishing that I ate more.
By posture number three, I'm starving. While I'm enjoying the transition to raw food and its benefits to polyphasic sleep, I am definitely having trouble eating enough food. In fact, I had one medium sized salad throughout the night and some fruit and a few veggies. Not nearly enough.
By posture number four I'm feeling awful. The hottie can easily see me in the mirror, so I try to turn my discomfort into a look of determination. Suddenly my peripheral vision starts to fade a bit and I feel dizzy. My stomach hurts even more and seems like it can't decide between throwing up or wanting to eat a whole pig. Struggling to look cool I hold the pose, barely able to keep it together.
The next one hits and I'm done. I sit down. Maybe I can pass it off as me being so hardcore that I can't exert myself for that long. Probably not. My vision gets even more fuzzy and starts fading in and out. I lean back against the wall. It's really hot in here.
I want to leave the studio but I don't think I have the balance. All of my concentration is going towards keeping my breathing regular. Hey... they have a roomba in here. I have an old one. That new one looks really cool. I wonder how that docking station works...
According to the many unforunate witnesses, that's when my face turned pale and my eyes rolled back into my head.
"Are you ok?" Hayden asked me. I could barely understand him.
I used all of my energy to mutter "No."
Next thing I knew there were a lot of voices. Everyone was freaking out and asking if I was ok. Was I? My eyes were open, but I couldn't see a thing. I frantically tried to look around. It wasn't hot anymore. I was leaning up against someone. Slowly I reclaimed my vision and surveyed the scene. Hayden and four women were crowded around me and looked very nervous. One woman had called 911. As I came to, I tried to explain that I was ok.
They brought me into the lobby and put me on a bench. The instructor began probing a little too quickly.
"I don't know what drugs you do or if you drank too much... "
"I don't do drugs or... "
"You really have to watch how much you drink."
"No... I don't drink... "
"I've seen people come in here in every state..."
I managed to get a few words in and explain that I don't do drugs, drink, take caffeine, or ingest anything that isn't basically known to be the perfect food. I attributed the fainting to transitioning to raw food and I think they believed it.
Needless to say, I'm done with this yoga nonsense. I saw the hottie as she left, and she asked if I was ok. Before I had time to explain that I had been wrestling anacondas to save children all day, she went into the locker room. Truth be told she wasn't that hot at all anyway. My vision isn't great.
So, there you have it. Ladies, what I think is really important to get out of this article is that even if I faint like a little girl, I'm STILL better than your boyfriend.
I've never been able to get into the swing of Bikram or Hot Yoga. The few times I went to Bikram, I always ended up flat on my back, trying not to pass out. And every time, the instructor pushes me to keep going and I'm like, "Dude, no." It's not for everyone. Fun Fact, though: George Clooney does Bikram for pain management. He had some accident on the set of Syriana and has been doing it ever since.
>even if I faint like a little girl, IÃ¢â‚¬â„¢m STILL better than >your boyfriend.
Darn straight Tynan!
Well, since recently changing to a vegan diet I can relate to not eating enough. I feel hungry so much more often now, all the time actually.
Also, as I am about to go polyphasic this kinda scares me, maybe you would've handled it better if you weren't polyphasic...?
I guess I'll see for myself pretty soon.
I think I'll just schedule to eat 6 times a day in sync with my naps, that should get me eating enough, though i wonder whether that's healthy.
Where can you find me at 2pm on a Thursday? If you guessed by the pool being fed peeled grapes by the Swedish bikini team, you'll be surprised to hear that you're wrong.
No, really. You're wrong... At least this Thursday.
Actually, my friend Hayden.. WAIT... this is an important but totally unrelated sidenote :
Life would be great if I only knew the lesson of an event before the event. If I knew that my wife would be angry when I complained about Disney food, then I just wouldn't voice those opinions operatically. What I'm finally seeing is that life's lessons happen all the time, we just need to see them.
Two experiences, one yesterday and one fifteen years ago reminded me of this. First the more recent one. While sitting in the gymnastics waiting room earlier this week I was talking about books with one of the other parents there. She was well read in different areas of fiction and I found myself noting book after book. She had me excited to read and that night I logged onto my Amazon.com account and nearly ordered some of the Kindle copies - because she read them on her Kindle.
At the start of the year I decided to limit my book purchases and except for a pair of un-regrettable slip-ups, I haven't missed having the books. Her hour long influence on me almost led me to buy a book. She didn't make me do anything but our conversation had shifted my framing of the world, from my goal to her norm.
The second episode I thought of was in a driver's education class. In this class - which taught me more about talking to girls than driving - the students would talk about what kind of cars we thought were cool. We pined away in our wood-paneled station wagons. One night the conversation turned to luxury cars and I declared that my luxury car of choice was clear, the Pontiac Bonneville
[caption id="" align="alignleft" width="320"] The Pontiac Bonneville[/caption]