I took my first yoga class in college.
It was the only class the pre-hubby and I could find that we could take together.
Bowling? Nope. Bad time.
Golf? Nope. Already filled.
So, off to yoga we went.
He was a trooper and did his best. However, I….. was hooked.
One year later in Brooklyn, I found a yoga class where the instructor was everything a good granola yogic teacher should be. I took that class right up until my belly from my first pregnancy was about to pop. I had an awesome set of lungs by the end after all that ‘Fire Breath’ stuff.

On and off since, I’ve been able to take some yoga classes, but never like that… Once a week, Every week, with NOTHING more important? But 3 kids later, fat droopy butt, and too many afterschool activities? In short. It’s been years. And my 30-ish body has had enough. That, and we found a seriously affordable gym here in my new town, new life.

Yesterday. Was the first day of my renewed love affair with my spurned lover.
And it felt good.
And I vow to be loyal.
And I HURT all over! Namaste.

All photos taken by hubby, Seth. Yes. That really is me. In all my glory…Ha!