Fat Girl vs. Yoga Goddess

Today... I did yoga!

I'm 3 months into triathlon training. In the last 3 weeks, I've added in HIIT training, twice daily workouts and ab work.  NOTE:  "Ab work," (for the time being) consists of approximately 30 repetitions of an ab exercise, a 30-second break to bitch about how much it hurts, feel a bit nauseous and then probably get a charlie horse in my abs.  Repeat.

Going from couch potato to super active means that everyday something hurts. EVERY day.  My ass is sore from the cycling. My shoulders ache from push-ups. And my thighs.  My thighs are in an almost constant state of soreness.  They suffer a near constant assault including 11 incline on the treadmill, intervals, squats, cycling, HIIT classes, etc.

So, with a very sore body, today, I walked into yoga class.

Like most yoga classes, there was row after row of tall, thin goddess-like women, all wearing perfect Lululemon yoga outfits. They have lean taut bodies and perfect pony tails. No one sweats. No one grunts. No one falls out of tree pose. For some reason, they're almost ALWAYS brunette. They make yoga look easy, effortless. I call these women Yoga Goddesses.  (see below)

I am NOT a yoga goddess. About 8 years ago, I did ashtanga yoga 4x a week. I was lean, strong, and felt great, but I was STILL NOT a Yoga Goddess. I would still sweat and grunt and fall over. I'm missing the Yoga Goddess gene. But I don't care.

Today, I rolled out my mat right next to those goddesses and smiled big. Some of them studied me silently, assessing my arms, round butt, thick thighs and belly. They wondered if I was in the right place. They wonder if I can do it. I smile and breathe and class begins.

As we go through the postures, I stretch my sore muscles and breathe deep. Before long, sweat rolls down my face and I take pride in every drip. It's hard work but I'm doing it. My thighs are the biggest in the room, but they are strong and they have always moved my body however I demand. As I twist into various postures, I feel my stomach fat roll over my pants but I don't reach to adjust my shirt.


In downward dog, I marvel at how high my hips are in the air, not at how wide my hips are. In this position, (despite my sports bra) my boobs fall down towards my chin and threaten to suffocate me, but I don't relent.

I breathe and stretch and a calm comes over me.   Among all these Yoga Goddess....I am the lone fat girl doing yoga.  It occurs to me that maybe somewhere, there is a fat girl sitting on a couch, too scared to take the first step. And maybe to her, I am the goddess.

I smile, stretch a little further and catch a glimpse of a perfect blonde pony tail in the mirror. It takes me a few moments to realize that it's mine.