When the Sun Sets After Yoga

 

I love when there are

delicious berry and orange clouds.

I had a yoga class outdoors,

on the faux grass,

and it was a lot of fun.

The faux grass was very cushion-y.

We tumbled like toddlers,

trying to do headstands and other crazy positions

that would seem dangerous and impossible (to me) on a studio's wood floor.

I was the worst at yoga of the whole class of four students.

Everyone in my yoga classes seems to do it really seriously.

It's hard to relax,

which I thought was kind of the point

of doing yoga.

The point of these classes seems to breathe

while hurting

a lot.

I'm the only one that wears sweatpants.

I wear sweatpants because

those are the only exercise pants

that hide my panty lines.

Even the old man wears body-hugging shorts.

I just bought a bunch of hiphugger briefs

that will hopefully hide those lines.

I've invested in contacts for zumba classes.

I cannot bounce around with glasses sliding down my nose.

Exercising is nuts.