Following a Goddamn Schedule: Week 1 Review (Why I Hate Yoga)

Trigger warning: If you love yoga with all your heart and soul, you will probably not enjoy this post. I’d probably just skip it if I were you. Maybe spend this time getting in another 20 minute practice. If, however, you would benefit from commiserating with me about the awfulness of yoga, then please read on.

This first week’s review of my newly instituted schedule will focus on the yoga bit, and mostly about how much I hate it. Like I said in last Friday’s post,

“The only spiritual revelation I’ve ever had during a yoga class is that I goddamn hate it.”

As per the “Schedule” I’ve set up for myself, I’ve been doing it for just over a week now. Yoga, I mean. 30 (ish) minutes every day when I wake up. If you’re looking to mimic my process, I’ve essentially been searching “free 30-minute beginner Hatha Yoga class” on Youtube and then doing whatever video felt the least aggravating (the first day I tried Ashtanga and that was a HUGE mistake, much too athletic: Hatha has been more in-line with both the limited capabilities of my body and motivations of my brain when I first roll out of bed).

I’d like to say that every day it’s gotten easier. But it most definitely hasn’t. If anything, it’s gotten harder because the repetition has become more monotonous, and the voice of the yoga instructor just becomes more grating as the days of repetition pile up.

Before you go sending me emails suggesting “a yoga class that I’m SURE you’d LOVE!”, know that it’s not the specific voice of the yoga teacher, but rather any voice telling me when and how to breathe that I find unbearably irritating. I’ve also been frantically reaching for the “pause” button before the end of the class, when the woman on the screen smilingly looks at me, with her hands in prayer, to tell me Namaste. Once upon a time I took a yoga class where the teacher was spouting off Sanskrit words left, right and downward-dog centre. At the end of the class I asked her what the words translated to. Her eyes got really wide and she was like, “Oh! You know? I actually have no idea!!” Ever since I have just NOT been able to stomach it. The eye-roll inducing pretentiousness! If you really want to tell me that you’re bowing to the divine in me, why not just tell me in the language we both speak? In short, WHY MUST YOU BECOME EVEN MORE INSUFFERABLE.

Now, let me be clear: I’ve been loving how I feel after the 30 minutes of yoga. I get to put a checkbox on my spreadsheet, and have a fantastic sense of smugness at having done some physical movement before I’d even finished my morning* coffee. These post-yoga consequences are still enough motivation (so far) to pull me over to my mat** every morning*.

For me, doing yoga falls into the same category as “eat your vegetables”. I don’t love it, but the proof*** seems to suggest that it’s good for me. And you know what? I’m okay with that, for now.

*which (today) translates to 2:30pm.

**some days I’m too lazy even for that, and the carpet seems just fine.

***in this case the proof is NOT in the pudding, I wish it was, because I love pudding. I guess the proof is in the broccoli.