For anyone who’s ever thought yoga a waste of time —


I am a runner. No, no, no. I am not running from the law or a rabid dog or the neighbor down the street who never, ever seems to shut up. The other kind — the kind that laces her shoes, takes off down the road for a few miles and sweats, a lot. I’ve always been a runner. Always. Good for my heart, yes. Good for my 20-year old body, yes. Good for my 40-year old body, abso-fickin-lutely! Although, I have to admit, I have had my fair share of overuse injuries over the years — yes, I’m one of those that runs through the pain no matter how much the small sane side of my mind tells me not to … hence the overuse injuries … hence the debut of my inner yogi …

I went to my first hot yoga class about two years ago. I sauntered in, positioned my mat near the front (I mean how hard could yoga be? I could run a six-minute mile. How hard can a few animal-inspired poses be?) Sixty minutes later, my six-minute mile ass was kicked, and my skin puckered like a child who’s sat in the bathtub for too long.

Now I know I probably should have succumbed to be a happy baby for the later portion of the class instead of trying to prove my stamina was up to the challenge of the vinyasa flow, but my competitive nature wouldn’t allow it. And so, I made it all the way to “Namaste”, nodded my head, rolled up my mat and exited, stage left, as fast as I could. The next morning I was so frikin’ sore I could hardly breathe. The cobra had bitten my shoulders and my inner thighs wanted to chop down every tree I saw … never mind that the mere thought of a lotus flower made me want to chuck. And I vowed to never return. Ever. I’ll take my open roads and my overuse injuries, thank you very much.

But … yea … I did go back. A few weeks later, humbled, I put my mat in the middle row and low and behold … here I sit, two years later — not as enlightened as I’d like to be — but unquestionably a better runner because I am now also a yogi — a yogi, mind you, who’s been able to flow through life injury free thanks to the ancient practice and a few animal-inspired poses.

Now repeat after me … Yoga is good for me. Yoga is good for me. Yoga is good for me. Do I sound like the Little Engine that Could? Nah. I sound like the little engine that did ; ) Today’s post inspired by the Daily One-Word Prompt: Flow.




  1. I have been doing yoga on and off since college, and I’ve always naturally been flexible. But hot yoga KICKED MY ASS. An hour and a half of a super heated room that smells like chips? The intensity of every pose I did was triply magnified and I did not look forward to coming to class. But what can I say? You find a super discount Groupon, you gotta buy it, you gotta use it.
    I still find it hard to go to hot yoga sometimes, when I have the Groupon. But this post inspires me to give it my all! Thanks for sharing. :)

  2. I have been to a few hot yoga classes and I must say they extremely taxing yet rewarding at the same time. Glad to see you enjoy the practice and those 6 minute miles. Namaste.

  3. […] I think I can … I guess …. I suppose I can. It is sorta humorous (I like humor) to see that some people actually think that yoga is a sport. Maybe it is, maybe not. It almost seems like chess being considered a sport. No, that is pretty much stretching it it a bit (get it “stretching it”–YOGA and STRETCHING?) It is as clear as the nose on your face, I couldn’t paint it…well–I can’t paint to save my life. I love it all, but I can’t do any of it, well, put it this way, I couldn’t make a living from it. No extra cash coming this way for all my yoga training. Yes, I am a trained yogaite. Wait, somehow that doesn’t sound quite right. I don’t want to say. “Yogi Master,” because…because it sounds too much like…uh… “Yogi the Bear”, and after all I do want to retain a bit of seriousness, here.  But, I really did practice yoga for a few years. A girl; some girl from Florida, practically out of a Carl Hiasson novel turned me on to some of the finer things in life and we picked up at some two-fer-one set of lessons by a local Tai Chi Master. I knew that the Florida Tai Chi lady was real, she had a diploma, (some sort of legal certification?),  and a cobra, or maybe it was a boa constrictor. I  don’t like snakes. Oh, the yoga teacher also had a tattoo, just like the one Honey Boo Boo has now! I am not real limber either. The Yoga, which had now turned into Tai Chi had me going every which way but loose. I don’t think I was ever loose.  A couple of years ago, I started up Kung Fu so I could participate in the Boston Chinese parade. I did.  After the parade, a few months later, the Chinese KungFu guy gave me a pat on the back (I already had my own set of numb chucks) and sent me on to  his brother’s Yoga studio (free of charge!).  I RAN, not walked, all the way there.  After all, this post is supposed to be about running or something like that, eh? […]

  4. I LOVE yoga, and running for that matter ;) not hot yoga because I’m already hot and sweaty naturally, eww I know! Lotus flow is awesome, power with spirit. This does help the stress situation, but I just moved and need to find a great studio in San Diego stat!

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