I woke up at 8 a.m. on a Sunday morning with a rumbling stomach. I went to the bathroom and then back to sleep for a while. I still wasn’t feeling well when my alarm went off at 10. Back to the bathroom and then a mental argument with myself began.
Me: We shouldn’t go to yoga this morning. Our tummy is not good.
Also me: But this is our sixth week in a row. We’ve never committed to anything this long. We have to go.
Me again: We’re sick.
Still me: We can handle it. We have to at least try.
And so I went to yoga.
A local brewery hosts yoga at 11 on Sunday mornings. I frequently hang with friends at this brewery despite hating almost all beer. I walked in, stomach rumbling, and the cute, young bartender immediately said, “Hey, Rachael!”
He knew my name. I played it cool and casually said “hey” back, but I was giddy like a 12-year-old girl inside.
I chose a spot next to the giant Christmas tree. It was a substitute yoga instructor. She didn’t know to tell the bartender to turn off the loud rock music. I couldn’t hear her when class started and had to look to the other students to know what to do.
This instructor started at a higher level than I’m used to with planks and downward dogs galore right off the bat. I had to stop and rush to the bathroom 20 minutes in, passing the cute bartender on my way. I’ll spare you the details, but I was in there at least 10 minutes. Someone else came in, did their business and then shut the light off as they left so I had to finish up in the dark.
I decided to go back to my mat and give it another try. They were doing warrior poses with downward dogs in between. I called it on the second downward dog. All of the movement, plus the loud music and smell of the pine tree was too much for my queasy system. I rolled up my mat, slipped on my flip flops and did the walk of shame past the bar again.
“No kombucha today?” the cute bartender asked. “Not today,” I replied as I kept walking.
I’ve been doing a great job getting myself to yoga. That was my sixth consecutive week, which is a really big deal for me! Yoga is great self care. But so is listening to my body. I tried it. My body wasn’t having it. I respected that. Listening to and respecting my body are also new.
I like this life where I’m a regular at brewery and have my name known by cute bartenders because I spend my time there laughing with friends, doing yoga and drinking kombucha.
