Dear Yoga

Dear Yoga,

I apologize for my many years of mockery in regards to you. I am now eating my words. I take back those times I spoke of you being lame and boring, and that time I said you were just glorified group stretching. You are effing HARD and you are kicking my ass. And, I deserve it for all my naysaying.

My physical therapists kept telling me to court you and that it would be a beautiful relationship that would strengthen me. I told them that you just weren't my type. They kept persisting, saying you would be so good for me. Finally, I found some incentive in a fundraising event featuring you. I knew signing up for a Yogathon to raise money for a great cause was the only way I would actually get acquainted with you. So far, it's working.

As it turns out, your tough love was just what the doctor ordered (pun intended) and I've stretched (again, pun fully intended) outside of my comfort zone. I'm growing and changing through knowing you.

Already, I am checking off several poses that I wasn't able to do just a few short weeks ago.


(I can do E with shoes on, working on doing it without)

I'm confident you will help me reach my goals*, since you've already helped me reach my toes.

We're creating quite the beautiful love/hate relationship, here, Yoga: I love to hate you, and you love to hate on my body.

See you on Monday,
Bren

P.S. Let's be honest, I'm only using you for your money. (If anyone wants to donate to my efforts, you may do so here. Thanks!)

*I'm already past halfway on both my physical and fundraising goals! :)