Guess Who’s Back

I think Magic Yogess and I took our relationship to the next level last night.

I’m not good with the baseball terms despite all of the games my Re Re spent trying to teach me, but I think one of us may have gotten to second base yesterday.

When I felt that magical yoga goddess, Magic Yogess, slowly lay her entire body on mine during child’s pose…

I experienced… feelings…

Totally almost normal socially appropriate… feelings.

Mmmmmm

I hate to even share this experience, because I’d rather y’all didn’t start showing up to her Roanoke Yoga classes demanding her attention. I’ve already had to fight Running Partner for her. I’ll fight all y’all if I have to. But I’m also not real good at keeping things to myself.

The experience was…

*sigh*

Anyway.

It was good.

I’ve lost myself a little bit lately.

I’m working through some things, some stuff that I probably should have worked through years and years ago but never really felt a need to until Running Partner came along, and magic yoga is part of the process.

So is Brene’ Brown.

I’ve been re-reading some of her books. Because she’s a freakin genius and I might love her as much as I love Magic Yogess.

Brene’ is helping me find my way back to myself.

And to my people.

Brene’ says people get angry when you disappear on them.

I disappeared on some folks recently.

I don’t know if it made them angry.

Some of them reached out.

One of them may have yelled at me a little, but also expressed total understanding while doing so.

Endong responded with tough love and took it to North Mountain knowing I’m fairly incapable of backing down from that kind of challenge.

The Tiny Brazilian just threw her super happy vibes and tons of love at me.

But my Rogue. My Rogue took to the fucking mountain of misery with me and processed the hell out of some shit. Hours of processing. Processing through mud. Processing through gale force winds.

We had to pause the processing for a moment when I was pretty sure that she was falling off of the side of the mountain behind me. She yelled out something that sounded like shock moreso than terror. But really. It’s Rogue. One wouldn’t really expect a strong reaction from her even in the face of impending doom. So my concern was legitimate. But turns out it was just shock at the sudden appearance of other runners appearing out of nowhere. We weren’t prepared to be lapped by quiet, reserved runners. We’re really more prepared to hear the sounds of Endong’s mountain call before we get lapped.

It was frightening. But I probably didn’t pee myself. A little.

We closed down Famous Toastery processing.

And when my Rogue officially welcomed me back into my running family, my world kind of shifted back into the right place again.

I mean, I was hoping for cake or a celebration of some kind. But whatever. I’ll settle for just being welcomed back. And Rogue’s short Eminem impression.

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve still got a shit ton of crap to work through. It’s gonna probably be pretty ugly. But I’m hoping to do it without shutting down again. No promises, because I’m a hot mess. But I’ve got plans in place to help with the process. Continued Magic Erica Austin Yoga. All of the Brene’. Multiple trips into the mountains with my people. Maybe even some beautiful ones. (Mountains, I mean. Not people. All of my people are beautiful. Weird and crazy, but beautiful.) Essential oils. Found a counselor, bless her heart. I’m even gonna let someone lock me in a death container filled with water for … actually I’m not sure how long. I should probably ask. But it will apparently be long enough for me to find enlightenment and maybe some resolution to some stuff. So that’s cool. And also, it’s probably called something other than a death container. But, you know, fear of water and everything…

Now. If you need me, my body’s a little pissed about all of the mountain therapy I’ve forced it through recently, so I’m gonna be trying to make up with chocolate and ice. So much ice.

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