I am going to begin this blog by telling you that MONDAY was a very good day. I set goals and accomplished them. Tied up loose ends, and crossed things off my todo list. My daughter even came to my class that evening. It was a very good day.
Tuesday, I woke up excited because one of my friends whom I adore was going to take my cycle class. I did all of my morning chores, got in the car ON TIME and then 10 minutes into my drive hit traffic that lasted my entire 17-mile trip to work. Consequently, I was late which I HATE.
I like to arrive at the gym 15 min or more early because it takes me FOREVER to set up my for my class (my students are all shaking their heads yes right now). And I like to chat or complain, or just connect with my crew before I kick their asses.
On Tuesdays, I typically teach 5 classes. 3 in a row at one location, then I drive to a second location to teach a 12-noon class. In the evening I go back out and usually just teach one but often sub another. All at different gyms. It’s a lot but, this the job I have chosen and most of the time other than being tired my evenings go off without a hitch. Because the class I often sub is at a 4th location I arrange for another instructor to come in and finish my 5:30 class so I can make it to the 6:30 class which is across town in time. Both clubs are fairly local so it usually not a problem.
4:50 I drop of my daughter and her bff to cheer practice. Now that I am a REAL single mom I have to do all the drop off’s and pickups that my mom used to. I arrange for a ride home for the girls and I am off to work. 4:55 I jump on the 10 freeway headed west. It is about an 8-mile drive. 5:01 traffic stops. No movement, a parking lot. I look at the clock and think glad I left early today. 5:06 still not moving. I call the instructor who is supposed to take my class and then do my last 15 minutes to see her status and let her know I may be late. 5:07 my stomach starts rolling.
Lets back this up for a second (this may too graphic for some of you, but I assure you, this is my life). I suffer from very bad IBS. Irritable bowel syndrome. I have had it most of my life, but of course, it flares up at the times when I am particularly stressed. The death of my father, the entire time my mom was sick until well after she passed I was plagued with this condition that must be managed carefully. Since I have such great experience in the area I am USUALLY ok. I am able to control my body until I am able to handle the situation. But it is a non-negotiable. There is no DO I have to find a bathroom, its FIND A BATHROOM NOW.
So here I am, on the 10 freeway. Stopped and I need to find a bathroom. I have NOWHERE to go, I can’t get off, I am stuck. I speak to my instructor friend who says I am in the middle of a Sig-Alert. Freeway is CLOSED and I am on it.
This is very bad. I arrange for her to teach my class (which I can’t afford to do), call the club to let them know she will be teaching, and try wiggling around in my chair hoping my stomach pains will subside. It’s now 5:20.
I start praying… “please god get me off this freeway, I have another class to teach and I have to go the bathroom”… Still not moving, those prayers went from begging to screaming to crying to defeat. I started talking to my mother, my father… please mom and dad get me off this freeway…. I can’t poop my pants!
It is now 6:05 and I haven’t moved an inch. The cars around me are very close and I don’t have tinted windows (in case it came to that, and it felt like it just might). I call the second club “hey I am sitting on the freeway, I might not make it to class, I will let you know”. So that would be two classes I lose for the night AND I poop my pants in the only car that we have which happens to have cloth interior. I keep thinking, this cannot be how my story goes for this day. I will NOT be blogging about this... (haha). God please, I KNOW you can do something.
Still not moving, still praying, starting at the clock, now I am trying to figure out how I could get home before my daughter and clean up myself and the car without her knowing what happened (IF it came to that). Needless to say, I am in bad shape. Still praying, screaming, crying… and I look up…. we are moving!!! Oh, thank you, Jesus, we are MOVING…
It is 6:18. I call the club and tell them that I will be there, I get off the freeway, run frantically into a gas station that has a bathroom line out the door (I wasn’t the only who had been sitting for hours). Race next door and beg an employee for the bathroom key, even though I was not the customer and I MADE IT TO THE BATHROOM!!
I finish my business, jump back in the car get on the freeway and arrive at my 6:30 class at 6:27… YEY ME!!
I run into the club where 20 plus students were waiting patiently, I walked over to the stereo grabbed my mic, introduced myself, (remember I am subbing someone else class) lookup and 3 people are rolling up their mats and leaving simply because I am there.
Now here’s the thing, I can teach a yoga class. I have years of education and experience and am confident in my ability. I looked up and thought.. 2.0. 2.0 2.0…
2.0 is NOT going to be affected by the ignorance and rudeness of these people. 2.0 is not going to give them a dirty look or mutter a sarcastic comment under her breath. 2.0 sat in traffic for nearly 2 hours and didn’t poop her pants. Those people can suck it.
So I taught the class, had a few hiccups here and there like when the guy next to me decided he didn’t like my class so he did his own, 2.0 didn’t even look his way.
The class was over I was exhausted, I got in my car to go home and my neighbor texts me telling me that someone had parked halfway into my driveway and I might not be able to get in. YES this again, it was a bowl night. I almost expect it. So I came home, drove over my curb to get into my driveway and called the police about the car.
At least this time I didn’t call 911.