Dear Yoga Instructor

Dear Yoga Instructor,

 

Hi, it’s me, the woman who was in class religiously last Aug to October and then dropped off the face of yoga planet after Halloween.  I’m the one who skirted the perimeter spaces of your studio room with my mat each week hoping to spare my poses from too close of scrutiny.  You told me my “running man” was “off to a good start” which is yoga teacher speak for “Wow! You are really determined to get this pose, but please don’t break your vagina in today’s class.”

 

I know you are probably not feelin’ the love from your students because your class size has dramatically dropped like someone farted in the back row. But please, before you spiral into feelings of failure and questioning your “Fall Jam” song list, let me tell you, it’s not you it’s US. Us moms who work so, so hard to look as hot (OK, OK or to get “healthy”) for spring break and summer are just worn out. We are tired of cutting out gluten, sugar, processed foods, food dyes, soy, dairy, alcohol, maize (is that corn?? I am not really even sure.) We are tired of veering left to the gym after carpool drop off rather than running a couple errands, like drive through Botox or getting our nails done. Getting up at the crack of dawn thirty to make it to the early yoga class before we get the young-ins to school….stick a fork in us, we’re done this time of year. Yes, I know yoga class is good for us--mind, body and soul---but damn, so is a good massage and margaritas with the girls.

 

You see, it’s winter and we don’t need to be showing off anything. That’s the payoff with nasty, cold, rainy weather. If I have to freeze in the blustery wind, I also get to wear a long, slouchy sweater that hides the fact that I ate cheese enchiladas and chips with a frosty beer last night (dairy – check, gluten – check, grease – double check, extra salt- check). See? If I attend yoga during this time I am working against this system. There is nothing hiding in my yoga pants/Namaste-tank top combo.

 

My love handles came back to visit for the holidays, resembling the sugar cookie roll of dough I ate last night. They brought with them their cousin, lovingly known as “the Pooch.” I am not really sure if “the Pooch” is actual fat or just massive gluten bloating since gluten is only this free and well represented in my body during this most wonderful time of the year.

  

So, dear yoga instructor, take heart, come January 14th, we will all dust off our mats and roll back into our spots in the back two corners with a facial expression of contrition. Be kind to us. The most cardio we’ve seen in the last 8-10 weeks is from trips up and down the stairs to ferry Christmas ornament boxes. If you try to punish us I mean, “challenge us” with your crazy cardio warm ups we may just take the child’s pose of shame until that part is over, rendering your attempt to “jump start January!” useless and ineffective.  The most stretching I’ve had lately is trying to reach my child’s missing shoe behind and under the back seat of my SUV. So I will not be risking vag rip this month with any birds of paradise or running men. Let’s take this nice and easy while I find my toes again.

 

XOXO and Namaste away for like two more weeks,

 

Saints of June

 

 


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