My closest friends are aware and know that when they reach me during that pivotal time, I may be in A Mood. It’s so odd. No matter if I’m working for myself or back in the dimmest, darkest days of my worst full-time gigs, I get so stressed about the waning weekend and the packed workweek ahead. Somehow the equivalent of being made a fool of by the only boy I’ll ever love and a looming Geometry exam for which I can’t study because Brian Krakow has my text book (though the modern day equivalent is a deadline for which I don’t have all the interviews or info) always emerges in some small capacity on Sunday night. For a long time, I used to insist on total and utter solitude the entire night to get a jump on the week’s work. And yet, that did little to relieve the stress.
Lately, I’ve taken to addressing this behavior straight on by instituting two things on Sundays, and they’re quite simple. Family dinner, i.e., a gossipy dins with three of my best gal pals and a Sunday sesh of yoga.
The daughter of one of my dad’s longtime colleagues, Be, recently invited me to attend one of her classes at in Williamsburg and I felt like a new woman after indulging in a 75-minute class a few Sundays ago. The class was fantastic. For years, I’ve skipped working out on Sundays but I have to wonder if there’s a direct correlation with my major misery every single week on that day only? Be’s energy, music choice and adjustments were great and while I felt like my bod got the stretching and workout it needed, I left feeling relaxed, centered and best of all–not too sweaty.
For more info, check out Be’s site at beshaktiyoga.com.