Sorry - But I Hate Yoga

It’s a new year! Time to Swear -To-God you are going to start some exercise routine. “Give yoga another try!” my friends say. The idea of yoga; little girls heads together at a slumber party, shoulders touching, sleeping bags lined up like yoga mats in the studio. Soft, quiet voices, punctuated by bursts of giggles and a “SHHH”.

But yoga is no slumber party. And, to the horror of most people I know; I hate yoga.

I want to like it. It would be good for me. If I could muscle my way into a pose.

“Isn’t it just stretching?” Chris asks.

NO! I bark. It’s hard and embarrassing to be anti-yoga. I have done yoga on several occasions. Or, I should say “practiced” yoga. And that - in itself; is a cool thought. There is a lot about yoga that strikes me as cool. The calm yogi voice. The pants! I LOVE yoga pants! I am pretty sure I am a size larger now in jeans because of my love of soft, stretchy yoga pants. I like the bright colored ones! Whoo!

But. There is nothing Whoo Hoo; shout it out about yoga. It’s work and serenity. It’s cool girl. And I am not.

There are times when I think: oh, ok - I will do the yoga. On a girls trip when everyone I am with is doing the sunrise or the sunset yoga class. I will go. Crank my neck to see what the heck my friends are doing when the yogi calls out : chaturanga! But by the time I am in position - the rest of the class has moved on.

You get a lot of attention from yoga teachers when you stand out like a Mugo Pine Shrub amongst a forest of stately Oaks. Gentle, kind yoga teachers. They all whisper softly and touch me gently to (try) align my body into poses (I am pretty sure I couldn’t do when I was 16 years old). They want you to come back - try again!

My friend Julie recently became a yoga teacher. I went to her first class. Purely as support. I got vertigo five minutes in and sat cross legged watching. Which made me feel valuable at the after yoga rehash….since I could critique a lot about what was happening in the room. This is another cool thing about yoga! These people don’t guzzle red Gatorades after a class - they know neighborhood spots where chai tea and bobo tea and green kale smoothies are served.

At the end of last summer I got talked into a sunset yoga at the forest preserve. Reeled in like a hungry trout - I showed up with my yoga mat. I have my own yoga mat!!!! So cool!!! I usually lie it across my back seat when I transport the dog. FYI - no paw marks on my car seats!

As I lay on my mat, arms outstretched to the side - fingers brushing over the last lovely days of green grass…I feel my first bug bite. More like a sting.

And I began to squirm.

The teacher played sound bowls and softly said to us “You are special. You are the sunshine of your life.”

I felt bugs crawling all over me now. Ants, tics, mosquitos, spiders….I don’t know. I was trying so hard to be cool and not look. The setting sun - the real sun - was drenching my face in sweat. Did I put that sunscreen on? What’s that crawling across my knee now?

We all walked out of the park, yoga mats rolled trimly under arms. Friends singing the praise of the practice. Me, itching my arms.

I love January 1st and our dreams. I love my yoga pants. I love soft voices. Yoga? Not so much.

Maybe I shop for new yoga pants in January instead.....