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Vegan stacker for breakfast

Sorry for the lack of posts but you see, I’ve been making sandwiches. Vegan sandwiches. That is indeed vegan cheese that you see peeking from beneath the top bread slice. Home made olive and rosemary bread to boot.

Yoga continues on as well. Now entering the fourth month. Combining ashtanga practice at the studio with meditation practice at home. No plans, no expectations. Just see where it goes.


So I romp through the summer months with a beer in one hand and barbeque utensils in the other, not a care in the world. I step on a scale in early October…well… (que the music from Psycho here) the results confirm that the SkepticalWalrus is beginning to live up to the latter part of his blog name.

Always fond of vegetables anyway, I decided to make a run at the vegan way and see if I could gain a bit of wisdom from a world that is widely viewed as crunchy, earnest, humorless and in many varied ways, off-putting. Three weeks on now and I happily report that though I have not lost much weight, I feel very good with a noticable increase in energy level.

Much can be done with this way of gnoshing that is not widely reported on recipe website. The trick is not to approach this path as a form of asceticism. Fresh produce and whole grains make for some darned good eats, especially when approached with creativity and imagination.

Combine it all with a renewed yoga practice and it’s enough to get yer woo going.

The SkepticalWalrus takes a deep breath and heads back to yoga class this evening. Namaste.

Update: The title of this post should be Sweat. 75 minutes of Vinyasa and I was sweating like the proverbial pig. Great yoga at a fine new studio in the neighborhood. I’m going to give several other styles a try this month and see if I can get back into a groove.

Update 2: Last night was Into to Ashtanga and while not quite as taxing as the previous evening Vinyasa, it still produced a lot of heat.

Motorcycle riding is one of my passions. I just drive and look. And sometimes listen to music along the way. It requires vigilance but not great skill and that makes it a good fit for me. Occasionally, I stop to take pictures and that seems to pull the entire experience together into a kind of yogic event.

A confluence of weird, otherwise known as “life” has pretty much managed to convince me that my on again, off again yoga practice needs to remain in the “on” position going forward. This, sports fans, is a big challenge for me.

Massage therapist: “You can’t relax, can you?”
Me: “Nope.”

There once was a time when I would have been a puddle of goo at that point in a massage, barely able to utter any response at all. Not this time. I was still pretty well amped.

So I go home, download a new yoga session – not realizing at the time that it focused on a core workout – and settle in for a bit of stretch and breathe. That ought to be relaxing, right? Well, yoga chick comes on and proceeds to kick my butt. Down dog, leg-up and back, then knee to the belly, leg back up, then knee to the elbow. Now the other side! OK, now down to plank. Over now and into boat pose! Legs down now and hold them two inches off the floor for five, four, three, two…….Damn!

Off goes the computer and I go straight into shavasana (also known as corpse pose), lying flat on my back with arms to the side. What can be more relaxing than that? Until listitis sets in. You know, listitis? The mental compiling of lists of things that have to be done a) now b) before Monday morning or c) sometime during the next work week. Topics are arranged like cards in a deck, traded about between various categories, prioritized and then, finalized. Oh, yeah, I think. I was supposed to be conscious of my breathing through all of that. Mental note to self: Next time, remember to breathe!

With lists completed I roll up the yoga mat and noticed my dog stretched out on the floor across the room, snoozing away. He gets the occasional scratch behind the ear, a stroll around the block, a couple of cups of dry kibble a day and he’s as happy as a clam. “What’s your secret?”, I ask. He responds with a big, heaving sigh, never opening his eyes. Now that dude knows how to relax.

All aboard!!! Ha!…Ha!…Ha!…Ha! (Sorry, Ozzie).

After a hiatus of about three months I have resumed my yoga practice. It always feels so good to begin again. For some reason I can never seem to keep my routine active for more than three or four months at most. A season changes, my mood shifts and the daily practice abruptly stops. Suddenly, it’s “Enlighten this!” as I plop my butt upon the couch, open a beer and engage whatever sports playoff series is in vogue at the moment. When I resume practice a number of weeks/months later, I always proclaim that this time will be different. This time I will encounter deeper levels of meditation, master more advanced asanas, achieve better concentration on breathing, become an instructor! Open a studio!! Better yet, move to Costa Rica and teach yoga beachside!!! blah, blah, blah…. But in eight years of riding the crazy yoga train, the cycle never fails to repeat.

So this time I hereby proclaim that the newly engaged practice will cease when it ceases and I will not expect nor actively encourage it to become more than something I just happen to be doing right now. So take that, you analytical, rational, scheming side of the brain! Meanwhile, of course, I will comment on the battle within my mind during this time of yoga engagement right here at Skepticalwalrus. Wait! That’s analysis! Doh!