Fall, Stand

by | Sep. 07, 2010

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I open the door to the little yoga studio and walk down the steps. The air smells spicy. I roll out my mat, find a spot on the floor, bring my hands to heart center when the instructor tells me to. I am the only person in the class, which I don’t mind. Today it’s good to be alone, to have no one else but the instructor. There’s an awkwardness that comes with exercising in a group when I’m so overweight. There’s a risk that I will have to admit, when I’m asked to jump to the front of my mat, that I have to step because when I jump my belly gets in the way of my legs going where they are supposed to. There’s the way I wonder if people are wondering, what is she doing here? Isn’t she too fat for this?

We move through several sun salutations. I am proud of myself for wishing she would hold some of the poses longer. Test me, I think. I can hold Warrior Two for much longer than that. My legs should be burning, and they’re not. Let me prove that I should be here.

Read the rest of this story at segullah.org/blog/
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