Last post, I mentioned that I went on a whirlwind trip to Sydney last week.
This post, I’m not telling you about my whirlwind trip to Sydney last week.
I am, however, telling you why the whirlwind trip to Sydney was such a whirlwind trip to Sydney. (If I say the words “whirlwind trip to Sydney” one more time, do you think I can make us all dizzy?)
The reason I had to fly home immediately after my Sydney work meeting on Friday was because I had booked and paid for a five-hour yoga retreat on the Saturday morning. On the one hand, this was frustrating, because I couldn’t believe my luck in having both my first yoga extravaganza in three years and my very first work trip extravaganza occur at the same time.
On the other hand, the scheduling of the yoga was wonderful, because it was yoga. In other words, I was finally getting the opportunity to make my body go stretchy-stretchy-bendy-twisty-wheeeeeeee again.
Plus, the yoga retreat occurred on a beautiful day, in a room with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out onto a myriad shades of green, and beside me in the studio was my ever-optimistic and Blaine-loving friend Li.
For the first two hours, my body went stretchy-stretchy-bendy-twisty-wheeeeeeee, and it was glorious. Then we all lay down on our mats, I said yes to being covered by a blanket (I was cold!… and I wanted to be tucked in like a bumblebee going to sleep), and the yoga instructor talked to us about breathing and calming and suddenly I was floating, floating, snugly warm and relaxed…
During the morning break, Li and I drank tea and ate fruit on the deck, trying to decide whether the magpies hopping towards us were young-uns or old-uns. We talked about work plans and putting on our big girl panties to act like adults, and we soaked in the sun.
After this came the second part of the yoga retreat, which focused on balance. I suddenly remembered that balance beam was always my least favourite apparatus in gymnastics, but I was pretty proud of myself for not falling over and causing a domino effect across the room.
That said, I was happy when it became time to partner up for some duo balancing poses. Li and I were in the midst of a shared tree pose when the yoga instructor dashed up with her camera and asked if she could take a photo of us.
Naturally, I asked her to take a photo with my (slowly dying) camera too.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. You’re wondering a) is that gorgeous Li girl single, and b) how on earth did Hannah manage to come up with such a New York Fashion Week-esque yoga outfit?
I’ll tell you how.
It involves waking up at 7am after five hours of sleep, realising you don’t own yoga clothes, pulling on leggings and the first comfortable top you see, listening to the voice in your head screaming LEGGINGS ARE NOT PANTS, and then reaching for your ridiculously attractive brown shorts. Ridiculously attractive. Yep.
Kids: Don’t try this at home.
Feel free to eat yoga salads, though.
And don’t forget to say goodbye to your bird-friends.