There was no triumphant return.

The studio did not welcome me like an’ old friend and comfort me through the lightly tread path of the yoga.

I walked into a weapons silo and tripped the detonators on every mini nuke in the joint. I was unprepared, and too frackin‘ late.

6 of the 10 classes I purchased at Bikram Yoga Main Line had expired, and the 430pm class was packed.

The studio has been redecorated and appears more like a Yoga studio than a sterile, sweat box environment. The colors are easy and the words ‘Concentration, Patience, Self Control, and Determination have been painted on the back wall. I was posited near concentration, and lost all my grip when a woman placed herself directly in front of me so as to disturb my reflection. I know this isn’t very Yoga of me, but fahk off, bitch. In addition, I tasted the worst muscle cramps of my young life that day, due to the lack of Yoga practice in the previous 12 weeks, and an imbalance of nutrients, fluid, and residual tension in my skeletal muscle.

What to do?

Limit Max v02 training [which I just resumed this month], minimize swings and bent pressing. Reduce the plan to pull ups and Pressing.

Walking to work 2.8 miles and back may also add to some lingering pain in the right knee and left foot. I can always, however, think happy thoughts.

Now, my left foot-poop foot is bothering me again and in order to return to the class I must purchase another package. My Level II RKC trip is paid for, and I have enough to cover the rent.

Every day I’m hustlin‘.