Well, I’m one week in to my six week yoga adventure. I am, in a word, exhausted. But that is partially my own fault, as I totally over-extended myself this past week (what with having two jobs, a baby, planning a birthday bash for my best friends, and starting this yoga thing).
I didn’t make it to 6 classes this week, I only actually made it to 3. And I spent a good long while beating myself up about it until I realized something … Do you know when the last time I went to 3 yoga classes in a week was? Oh, I don’t know, maybe 4 years ago! So who gives a shit if I didn’t make it to 6? Before this last week, in the last 3 years I had probably been to six yoga classes. So I did 3 and I’m incredibly proud of myself.
And I’m discovering what an absolute mess I’ve made of my body because I haven’t been taking care of it. My knees are shot, my wrists and ankles are weak, and my cardiovascular strength is non-existent. I know that the more I go, the better it gets though, so I’m going to keep on keeping on.
And maybe this week I’ll even make it to 4 or 5 classes. Who knows?