Dear Yoga Class:

I like to think that I’m in pretty good shape.  Sure, I ain’t as good I once was, but in the grand scheme of things, I’m quite fit.  I can do boy push-ups, squat my body weight, and run a 6-minute mile.  That’s pretty good, right?

So why, why, WHY do you make me feel like such an inflexible, uncoordinated, stumpy-chubby mess?

I had never experienced you until about five weeks ago.  Had dismissed you with a haughty chuckle as “not a real workout.”  Had put you in the same category as golf and bowling: things that are entertaining for some people, but not a real workout.*

Wow, was I wrong.  At class this morning, I finally allowed myself to admit defeat: Yoga, my friend, you are HARD.  And I suck at you.  I admit: I’m a total pussy.  There are 80-year-old women who are stronger and more flexible than me.  Really.

Thank you for the lesson in humility.  I’ll see you next week, when I’ll once again slide off my mat in a sweaty mess of downward dog while everyone else looks flawless.


Your humble student,


*I stand by this assessment for golf and bowling.  Anything you can do while drinking that much beer….

Today’s EAT: I was feeling lazy for dinner and with the hubs out of town, opted for some delivery sushi from Maru Sushi.  Never ordered from this place before, and it wasn’t bad!  I only got rolls, so it’s tough to tell the quality of fish though.

Today’s DRINK:  I’ll just show you, lest I describe my shamefully cheap wine selection in words yet again.  (Although I swear, it is not that bad.  And I’m broke.  And I bought like 8 bottles of this stuff last time I was at TJs, so we’ll be drinking it for a while.  And by a while, I mean like a week.)


Today’s RUN: Day off from running.  See yoga disaster above.


2 responses to “Dear Yoga Class:

  1. Hey there. Lovin’ the bloggin’. Such a good way to keep tabs on you. How’s life in the NYC?

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