The other day, I was the only student to show up for lunchtime yoga. “You have three options,” my instructor told me. “A. We can do a restorative yoga class. B. I can kick your ass with a really intense class. C. We can blow this joint and go out for drinks.”

I stood there, waffling between all three. An hour of restorative yoga would pretty much be an easy-peasy, introspective afternoon nap. Going out for drinks would be fun. And I’d been wanting to pick my instructor’s brain about his experiences within the teacher training program.

In the end, though, I chose option B. I felt I needed it, especially after my rough day at the lab, trying unsuccessfully to get blood drawn so I could take the next step in trying to get pregnant. That and I’d been feeling a little fat. So we got down on our mats and we sweated it out. [Read more…]