Look up “Grace” in the dictionary; my face will not appear.  The tallest girl from kindergarten through high school, I was gangly, long-legged and klutzy. I became “famous” for my rather spectacular falls (though less admired for my unbreakable bones). Size 11 feet only added to the problem as well as my perpetual inability to pay attention to where I was walking.  I also bruise like a dead-ripe peach and have avoided exercise nearly my whole life.

Now retired and wanting to fill my days with new experiences, I opened myself up to yoga.  One failed attempt in a group class several years ago that went splendidly that night, followed by agonizing pain in my surgically repaired shoulder for a weeks after, I’d told myself “you can’t do yoga”.  Well, never say never.  At my first writing class, I met Jules, who among many skills, is a yoga instructor.  Having relayed my dismal failed attempt at yoga, she offered one-on-one instruction with care to not push me beyond my comfort zone.  All those falls, shoulder issues, knee and lower back arthritis, hmmm…..I was skeptical, yet intrigued.

I began with trepidation but quickly invested in a mat and just started doing it – gently.  To my delight, I love it. Several months in, I feel better – more centered, less pain and flexible. I’m doing yoga not only every two weeks at class but every other day. I convert my kitchen floor into my “yoga space”.  After some trial and error, I’ve managed to get Spence, Tipper and Biscotti to respect that when the doors are closed, yoga is in session.  (Meaning, no asking of questions, meowing at the door or walking through the kitchen when those doors are closed.)

And yet another benefit of yoga……I LOVE YOGA PANTS.  But more on that in another post!