It Happened-

Fitness Junkie, Uncategorized

I cried in yoga class today. I feel like Alexis from Schitt’s Creek saying this, but “It was hot yoga and tears are made of the same stuff as sweat so….”

I think I cried because it felt like time was standing still and I really need that right now. Time has been on my mind lately. Time as in “Before things were the way they are now. ”

Before data took over classrooms.

Before so many friends began burying parents.

Before classroom doors had to stay closed and locked.

Before being excited that I slept through the night without waking up to pee or remove covers.

Before I knew that wrinkles had names.

I’m sure I don’t want to bring the rest of the world down with me today. I’m allowing myself this one day funk and honestly, I’m already feeling better. Here’s to music that changes moods.

(Turn and face the strange)
Oh, look out you rock ‘n rollers
(Turn and face the strange)
Pretty soon now you’re gonna get older
Time may change me
But I can’t trace time
I said that time may change me
But I can’t trace time.

I Don’t Think I Hate Yoga Anymore, Now What?


Day two of my 30 day yoga pass, and I think I like it. I’m a gym junkie and I’m not ashamed to admit that. I’ll try anything as long as there’s no mud or fire involved. Yesterday a friend texted to tell me about an offer at her yoga studio, 30 days for thirty bucks, I signed up. It’s nice out, my mood is up, and I really think I need to like yoga. I know I will never be one of those folks that post pics of yoga poses, but I’m starting to understand why they do it. Those poses are hard, and beautiful. They might look easy, but let me tell you my body does NOT contort like that and I doubt it ever will.

Today I took a hot hip-hop yoga class. All morning I was excited picturing my hip-hop moves. In my imagination, I was slaying with Beyonce like the GOAT. On the way to the studio it hit me, “Holy shit! This is just going to be a yoga class with a hip-hop soundtrack!” I knew dancing was out, there’s barely enough air to breathe in that room, but I went anyway because I love hip-hop music, and I’m starting to appreciate that post yoga glow.

I survived, and I’m learning as I go. First of all, I will no longer wait in that hot room for the class to start. I will be that girl that sets up her mat and waits in the lobby cherishing as much cool air as possible. Yes, I will follow the instructor into the room and begin when she does. She’s the teacher, I’m the student, She’s modeling the behavior, and I am totally following it!

Second of all, I will continue to plan my exit strategy. I’m sure everyone around me is relishing in the “Be Present” vibe of it all, but 30 minutes into both classes I have taken, there are 15 minutes of panic where I am sure I am about to die. There’s this pose where one leg is behind me and my arm is straight out in front of me. You know what else is straight out in front of me…. The exit! And although I hope I never actually do it, during those 15 air free minutes, while everyone else is finding their zen, I am fantasizing about running to the parking lot for gulps of oxygen.

Finally, no to shirts with words, but yes to headbands that make me look like a lead singer in an 80’s hair band.  Remember that yoga glow I mentioned? It’s a thing except for the patch of chaffed skin on my chin from continual sweat swiping. Oh, and sweat dripping into ears isn’t that great of a feeling either, so I’m rocking that headband while I downward dog for the next class.  Yeah I said it, the next class. For me, yoga is like running a half marathon. I hate it while I’m in it, but as soon as I survive, I’m thinking about doing it again.

A Blog is (Re) Born

Fitness Junkie

I decided I need to blog. Something shorter and less committal than starting an article or book, but longer than a facebook post.  People have asked me if I ever thought of blogging and I until today I thought blogs were what other people wrote. I used to think that about hot yoga too.

I am a complete sucker for a fitness boutique bargain, so when a friend texted me about 30 days of yoga for 30 bucks, I was all in. For now, anytime my fitness Attention Span wanes, and I wander into a new class, there will be blogging.

I think I hate yoga, but I’ve never tried hot yoga, soooo.

Except for the sheer panic about 40 minutes in when I eyed the door and planned my quiet, but air-gulping bolt out of the room before what I know was impending suffocation, I experienced and obviously survived an entire day’s worth of regular emotions in the other minutes. The beginning was calm and confidence building. The instructor (Yogi?) reminded me that it was a “no judgement zone.” Whatever, I made a mental note that this was another benefit of being 50. I really didn’t give a shit about whether I was doing it right. However, accidentally sliding into a split thanks to incessant sweating causing a slippery mat, reminded me that I could really pull something,  “Oh hey actually feeling 50, there you are.”

I didn’t exit class skipping and loving it, but I also didn’t leave hating it.  What I did love is creating yoga homework for myself. There were definite moments I felt disgust and confusion, but it also felt weirdly exciting. The challenge of practicing and mastering some of the yoga moves that just look like body tangles to me right now, seems kind of fun. I mean, it took me a full year to love spin classes, so tomorrow when the gym I DO love is closed, back to yoga I go.

It’s Hip-Hop Yoga, and I’ve never tried that.