So, as part of my whole spring reboot, I decided to finally check off one of those things I wanted to try but never got around to: a yoga basics class at my local studio. My experience with yoga extends only to that time I played WiiFit, despite the doctor telling me for years I needed to take it up to help my back be less of a a**hole sometimes. I bit the bullet and paid for a drop-in class, convinced that I would hit up Planet Fitness or the rowing machine afterward for a “real workout.”

So, I walked in to the class, which was full of senior citizens, sure that I was going to breeze through this basics gig and sign up for the more advanced classes on my way out.

I….WAS…WRONG. SO VERY WRONG.

By the time the hour was up, my muscles were shaking, I was sweating to an embarrassing degree, and my Fitbit told me I burned over 300 calories during what I assumed would be a glorified stretching hour. Meanwhile the experienced (and way more limber) senior citizens probably took bets on whether I would fall on my face before the class was over.

I survived…barely. Thoughts of my “real workout” went out the window as I mentally ate my humble pie and hobbled right out of there on wobbly legs. Glorified stretching, my butt. To add insult to injury, I had not had a pedicure in months, so my hobbit-like feet were on full display to further my humiliation.

However, as much as I was dyyyiiiinnnggg after the class, I keep going back. Hopefully, it will be another tool in the toolbox for rebuilding my fitness and health.

Something must be working though, because I convinced my husband to give it a try. He will be joining me tomorrow.

This should be interesting.