Music Marathon, Day 7: Sounds of Silence

"Silence is a great source of strength."

-- Lao Tzu

My week-long music marathon paused with no concert to attend on Thurday.  After work, I re-routed my energies to my long-lost Bikram yoga.  Usually I go 3-5x a week, 90 minutes each time, so a week-long yoga lapse to accommodate a break-neck schedule of work and concerts was significant.

From a fitness perspective, the four recent "hikes" at USANA provided substantial cardio.  But I don't got to yoga solely for the workout, although it ends up being that, too.  I go because through silence in an unyielding environment I gain the mental toughness I need to withstand "my stuff."  And in the last week, "my stuff" cropped up.  Yessireebob.

But there was physical stuff that needed healing as well.  By the fourth concert (Dave Matthews) in five days, I noticed that my right arm, just below my elbow, was aching.  Duh.  Call it beer-can-pick-em-up-em-itis.  Probably not that different from tennis elbow, this excessive strain was caused by hours of using my Green Team nifty grabbers to fetch beer cans from various places at USANA.  I'm not complaining at all.  I love being there and I love helping with recycling, or I'd find other things to do.  And no, I didn't drink a drop. It's not allowed while I am working on the Green Team, and then there's that ongoing aversion I have to used beer.

This pose below, Salabhasana, also known as Locust pose or "elbow killing pose" made me want to break my silence and scream.  The woman in the picture doesn't do this pose exactly like we're taught to do it at my studio, but you'll get the idea. Or you can look at the poses (Locust pose) on my studio's site.

Note that the woman's hands at the edge of her body.  We are supposed to put our elbows completely under our body, to the point where elbows touch each other and pinky fingers touch, sort of like how your hands would be if you were doing a volleyball bump.  So when you lay on your wrists and elbows that you have subjected to excess wear through typing, tennis, and yes, beer can fetching, the pain is not for the faint of heart.  Teachers call it the pain that kills the pain.  If you are reading and saying you don't agree with "no pain, no gain," this pose is an exception worth consideration.

After class, my elbow felt better.  And after 90 minutes of hearing, "let it go," which I've definitely commented on before, I did. Sometimes, silence is the most nourishing music of all. {Life is good.}