Tuesday, October 25, 2011

rock out with your granola out

I have a love/hate relationship with yoga.

I love my yoga pants.

I love carting my yoga mat around in my backseat because it makes me look all Madonna-Circa-1998.

I love Child's Pose.

I love spa music.

I love saying Namaste... both ironically and non.

I rarely love an entire 60 minute class of actual yoga.

I spend the first 15 minutes carefully trying to perfect the exact proper postures and feeling completely uncomfortable and awkward because I've been doing this for over ten freakin' years and I'm still not a Yogi All-Star probably because I spend sliiiightly more time in the Lululemon store than I do in the actual studio but WHATEVER. 

Somewhere in between the fifth and sixth Sun Salutation, I say fuck it and begin The Ultimate Quest for the "You're So Wonderfully Flexible But You're Doing It All Wrong" Kinda-Sorta Stamp of Approval from the instructor.  Because at this point, the Type A-er in me just needs some affirmation... even it's of the "goodness gracious, look at that turnout... however, this isn't a barre series, dear" variety.  

I spend the rest of class passive-aggressively proving my Utthita Hasta Padangustasana {fine, fine, I totally had to Google that} is better than yours, until the instructor just flat-out gives up on subtle corrections and leaves me rocking alone in the corner with my legs tucked behind my neck. 

I will admit, it's not all that relaxing or centering. 

Prenatal Yoga?  Totally different ballgame, y'all.   I may become the next Michelle Duggar just so I can become a permanent fixture in the Thursday 7:15 class. 

First, it's as if I'm yoga-ing in one of those treasured pockets of Dallas that feel oh-so-very NOT DALLAS.  This makes my Austin Soul happy.  Peeps be walking around with their normal-person-sized engagement rings and their Target sportsbras and their Toms.  And next door, extremely interesting people are practicing their plies. 

I may just have found my post-partum workout if that whole Michelle Duggar Thing doesn't pan out. 

The instructor is a licensed doula and hypnobirthing practitioner... She talks about "after-birth baby-skin-cheese" being the best wrinkle cream available and dares us to Downward Dog our way through labor, if only to make the hospital staff "totally wig out."  Be still my hippie heart.  And my funny bone. 

"Laziness" is encouraged.  In regular yoga, bitches be shooting smug looks at you if you even consider chilling out in Bridge Pose instead of going balls-out on the headstand.  PY is all "we're smack in the middle of primetime television and you're not sitting on your couch... let's celebrate that with these cork blocks that are usually reserved for geriatrics in normal-person-yoga."  And yet I still wake up NPY Good-Sore.  Win-Win. 

Silence is discouraged.  Not only does my current Inability to Move Without Grunting appreciate this, but so does my ever-present Loud Mouth.  Do you know how freeing it is to exclaim "I kinda feel as if I'm motor-boating myself when we do this shoulder stand" and have eight other people nod their heads in empathy, because, ya know: BOOBS.  

And if there is even the tiniest bit of pressure to BE ZEN ALREADY FOR CHRISSAKES, it's eradicated by the aforementioned neighboring contemporary ballet's substitute for a studio piano... ie:  The Gentle Tinkling of Old Cocktail Music-Themed LPs... reminiscent of the "more festive parts" of The Shining's soundtrack.  All I can picture during my Ardha Chandrasana is a young Jack Nicholson in a tuxedo, smiling maniacally with wonky Warrior Pose arms.  

Heeeeeeeeeere's Johnny! 

And,... Namaste. 


  1. What a delight! I am kinda traumatized by baby skin cheese, but this class sounds otherwise quite enjoyable!

  2. You crack my shit up my friend :) Hilarious.

  3. After-birth baby skin cheese - the perfect description for that stuff!

  4. I want to take prenatal yoga and I'm not pregnant in the least. Think they would notice if I just took it for a few years and never gave birth? Probably not, granolas are a naturally trusting people.

  5. Nailed it. This post is hilarious. Love you.

  6. love this! You should think about taking post-natal yoga....I loved it!!

  7. I want to take this class and I'm not even close to pregnant. In a moment of insanity I purchased a 10 class pass for Bikram yoga. Holy jezzzabells those women (and few rogue men) are insane! I'm only one class in and trying to come up with every excuse not to go to the remaining nine.

    Keep it up! My bestie did prenatal yoga through her pregnancy and recovered from a long (36 hour long!) labor fairly quickly.

  8. I can't even count all the ways that this post warms my heart. Yay for NOT DALLAS! Yay for you finding a little corner of perfect! Yay for large men performing ballet! Yay for YOU.

  9. Too funny! I also have been loving my pre-natal yoga class during this pregnancy, although I do live in Austin and the hippie vibe in my class here is definitley less on the quirky/fun side and a little more on the serious/itimidating side. But that's OK. It feels great on my achy back and joints, regardless of whether I decide to downward dog it through labor au natural or go for the drugs.

  10. I've already given my best friend, also pregnant with her first child, a link to your blog. Your posts always make me laugh out loud!!! You and my bestie are like 2 peas in a pod. She's into all the healthy pregnancy stuff, and I just wallowed on my couch and ate cheese curls while I was with child. I'm still suffering from the 45 lb. pregnancy weight gain minus the 6 lb. baby;)

  11. I LOVED my pregnant lady yoga class. It was the BEST. I did spend most of it laughing at the hippy dippy trippy first time moms with their all natural birth plans and careful notes on how they were going to raise little Moonbeam. I think we all know how they turned out a few months later.

  12. I came across your blog awhile ago while you were doing the whole wedding thing and have been obsessed ever since. I remember thinking back then that I couldn't wait until you became pregnant so I could read what I assumed would be hilarious stories about what it's really like to be pregnant, without all the sugar coating you find elsewhere. And I must say, you have MORE than exceeded my hopes and expectations. You are funnier than ever.

    Namaste bitches!


happy little comments!