Staying Alive.
…ah, ah, ah, ah, stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive! Now I’m singing that chorus (well, singing is really stretching it) and wiggling my butt every time I wash my hands. The ABC song didn’t quite do it for me anymore.
I did not figure that out myself. I decided I wanted to try out an infrared sauna and I was talking to the woman who owns the place and she told me that when she taught CPR they used to sing that while pumping the shit out of those dummies. You know, to sort of take your mind off of how weird that feels.
Then I heard Ira Flatow from This American Life recommend it for washing hands. A song I hadn’t heard since I was in that bar a few years ago. Recommended twice in one day. Hmmm.
And because right now that is what we are trying to do, I thought singing it while washing my hands umpty ump times a day might bring a little joy into my scrubbing. And it works. Try it and really get into the bump and grind. There you go. The words are online. I know.
But back to this sauna thing. I had been in lots of saunas before but not this infrared type. When I was teaching in Ukraine, I went to the banya once a week with my gal pals and we would sweat it out, rub ourselves with salt and soda, jump in the cold pool and eat chocolate, drink cognac, laugh a lot and feel good. Miss those days.
I thought it would be in a really hot room but heated with some kind of infrared lights rather than the rocks and water I was used to. But no. No, nothing like that. I did the whole undress thing and was given these rather space looking heavy shiny material pants and this paper bra to put on.
Now I’ve had to wear those paper bootie things from time to time, but this was a whole new experience. I think the people who thought this up 1. Never had a boob, let alone two. 2. Probably had something to do with designing those hospital gowns that open in the back and 3. Was an effing idiot.
So, it was going from the dressing room to the sauna area in silver space pants and a black paper thing with a strap over each arm and resting (empty) somewhere under my chin. Boobs free.
No room. No lights. No bench. No wood.
A massage size table. I was told to get on the table, head up here and then I was draped with these large, heavy, blanket like things from the neck down, tucked in, arms at my sides also tucked in. Then the heat was cranked up. Weird.
I had my ear pods in and was listening to some nice nature sounds with those chimes and maybe an ocean wave or two. But I wasn’t listening. I had to figure this out. First of all, I am claustrophobic, and I felt like I had to get out of there. I took my arms out and that felt a lot better right away. I was warming up and that felt good too. I took a deep breath. Okay, I can do this I thought. Plus, I paid already. Groupon.
I know these weighted blankets are all the rage now, but I am a feather girl. Down comforter. So, the best I can say is that it felt like I was covered head to foot with one of those lead things they put on you when you get dental x-rays. But those are there for a few minutes and I had a 50-minute appointment.
Now I practice mindfulness (do not ask me to explain it) and I know that breathing slowly and deeply tricks the little guy in your head to go from “Holy crap what’s happening, this is terrible and we better get out of here” to “Oh, she is calm and things are okay, I think I will take a nap” While that voice was napping I realized I did feel calm and it felt relaxing. I put my arms back under. I even had her crank up the heat some when she would come and check on me. It was a good experience and I will go again.
Once again, just as I thought I had released those expectations that want to influence me, I had to let go and be open to experiencing something new and different. Or get up and run out.
Yes, I do exercises most days with my hand weights, body weight and bands. And for me to keep motivated I need to change things up at least once a week with a hike, a sauna, a massage or something I have never tried before.
This little caravan I am living in has about 15 feet of floor space and that is counting under the table/bed, so I find myself doing some exercises out on my picnic table at the campground. In the dark. Too self-conscious to do it in the daylight.
Sometimes I am watching an instructor via a YouTube or class I have purchased, and it is me out there, with my laptop, in the dark at 5:30 AM. Stayin’ alive.
#disruptaging
