Day 6: The Prodigal Yogini

Today was my return to a full primary class. I returned to my first Ashtanga teacher. It seemed appropriate since I'm starting over. There were only two people who I knew from my former Ashtanga life. In the last six years since I practiced with her I've been through a lot and clearly she has, too. Her teaching style was at the same time comfortingly familiar but softer. Gentler.

I settled in next to one of my yoga buddies and we exchanged stories about our kids. There were a couple other people who I knew, but don't know me. One I knew because I took her prenatal yoga classes when I was pregnant with Mia and because she practices with my friend Liz. Another is friends with my friend Ravyn so I've seen her around. I was happy being relatively anonymous.

Before class I scanned the room. I wasn't the roundest person in the room, but there weren't many who were rounder. I imagined my twenty-something self would have been mortified to be one of the chubbiest.

I did manage to bind in Marichyasana D, but it wasn't pretty. My Navasana was terrible. Lolasana just wasn't happening. It's not just that I've lost strength in my core. I've lost sensation. I can't feel the places that need to be engaged. Utpluthee? Not for more than one count at a time. Lift. Drop. Lift. Drop. Lift. Drop. I felt the same way after Mia's birth. I was starting to get sensation back but then I got pregnant again so I have no expectation of how long this is going to take.