I love to hate you.
When you tell me to go from plank to modified cobra to downward facing dog my arms want to quit.
As the blood rushes to my head, I want to go into child's pose and never move again. When you tell me to breathe deeply into the right side of my lung and shift my left seat underneath my left leg while in triangle pose, I want to scream "that's not possible, Cyborg!"
My ribs are actually sore. I don't think that's ever happened to me before. Muscles that have lain dormant all those baby carrying months are unhappy. Yoga makes them unhappy. But, and that's a BIG but, yoga makes ME happy.
Yoga makes me sore.
and makes me feel better about the piece of cake I had in celebration of "no diet" day.