Yeah, I don't do that. |
Vast improvement on my chatarunga, sweat soaked clothes, and 560 calories later, I feel like a muthafucking champion. WOOT. Go me.
I am writing this post for one reason, and one reason only. (That is a bald faced lie, I also wanted to brag.) I need something to refer back to when my traitorous brain starts telling me I don't want to go to class, I want to stay in bed or go home to the couch or eat something instead.
IT FEELS FUCKING GOOD TO GO TO YOGA.
Note To Self
Self, yes, yoga is hot and hard and tiring. Duh. But it's also exhilarating, and fulfilling, and challenging, all the things you complain about not having in your life. Every time you feel stronger, push yourself further, hold a pose longer, you're filled with happiness. Hold on to that feeling, and the feeling you have after an hour of devotion to yourself and your soul. Push through any resistance and know that it's worth it.
Also, your ass is gonna look fabulous.
Love,
Self
No comments:
Post a Comment