I did yoga today. I've done it before, say, seven or eight times. I like it fine enough. I think it's very good for you. I last did it a long while ago, I'll guess ten years or so.
From those long ago lessons I learned a lot and include some pieces of what I learned in my daily exercise, and I'd even say, every day life. So, yeah, yoga works for me, anyway. I'd recommend it for anyone. Why? Here's one reason. At the end today the instructor instructed us instructees to lay flat, and relax.
Relax everything. I tried, and to a great degree succeeded, because during the final minute of rest before the end of class, I felt and smelt spring in the air. True. Do yoga is my two cents. No matter who you are.
Today's yoga also acted as a gauge for me to the affirmative that consistent disciplined work I put in to eating healthfully (not too much is also key) and exercising every damn day, has helped elevate my fitness. I was able to do the class without struggling. I literally felt fitness and broccoli working within my muscles and cells. That might not seem like a big deal, but, well, I'd say, at least it reminded me once again booze, chips, and drugs suck. Don't do them. Period. I mean, period.
Run, don't run to the pill aisle, run to yoga. This, from a non-yoga devotee. I'm not sure when I'll do it again.
My tad bit older buddies mentioned I'd too need reading glasses near, at, or just past age 50. I didn't doubt them, even if at age 49 and younger I couldn't see fuzzy if I tried. I'd test my eyes, seeing how soon I'd see a road sign, and it always turned out I could see the sign soon, miles away. I had a full-out eye exam at forty-eight that saw my eyes score better than twenty-twenty. The eye guy said so. He also said in a year, if not shortly beyond, I'd probably need seeing assistance to read. You know, my buddies and the doc, they were all right. And not just right, they were perfectly right, like right on, like, half a year before age 50 I started noticing my eyes lagging in a few ranges when it came to re-adjusting from viewing close-up small details to far-away grand scale scenes. I'll be dang. On the money, like clock work, the ole peepers are starting to give. A sure reminder that, along with all the living I'm doing, I'm slowly, steadily, dying.