Day 3 (was yesterday and I did yoga)

I'm not going to lie. I don't hate it.

I'm highly skeptical of course, and being a statistician (totally by accident as I always hated math), I am willing to say there is an association, maybe a correlation, but causation is going too far, for right now at least, but my interest is certainly piqued.

In the three days that I have been doing yoga (I am one of those people who works out once and thinks she's lost weight by the way), I have noticed the following:

1. My formidable morning low back pain, wherein I resemble a 75-year-old woman, groaning in discomfort, terrified I might slip a disk, has nearly disappeared.

2. Evening tension headaches. Gone.

3. Homicidal fantasies towards coworkers (one in particular) have decreased markedly.

4. The idea that I take yoga with me throughout the day, when I'm late to my meeting in Ohkay Owingeh and I'm stuck behind an RV from Oklahoma, when my child is rolling on the floor crying because she thinks that Nina (the dog) doesn't love her anymore, when I see a homeless animal, MSN somehow sneaks onto my homepage, I think of any of the thousand clients we serve and the battles they are waging. Bringing my awareness back to the present moment. Back to my breathe (I know! Seriously, I did this today). Back to my truth, which is and always has been, things are always working out and most things are not that big of deal.

5. My body is pleasantly sore.

6. Someone called me lazy yesterday. I looked at him, shocked. He looked slightly frightened at this point and then relieved/confused when I shouted, "Thank you!" (I'm about as non-lazy as you can get so I appreciated the compliment).

I don't want to get all religious about yoga. I refuse. I mean, I will buy a new yoga mat because thirty days is a long time and I need motivation, but I'm not going to start wearing beads and googling trips to India. I am merely conducting a scientific assessment of the changes in my mind and body as I progress through this journey.

There's one more.

7. I feel more comfortable in my own skin, which is manifesting in a decreased desire to exaggerate (though I do love a good story). That being said, I am not a statistician. I do statistics. Sometimes.