Krafty Yogi

I eyed the treadmill warily as I untangled my headphones. I did not feel like forcing myself through a run. Maybe I should try a workout class, I thought to myself. I always saw the group fitness classes happening in the studios but never joined in myself. I checked the schedule and discovered that a yoga class was starting in ten minutes. Sure why not? I thought. Yoga is pretty chill, it’ll be a nice, relaxing workout. Famous last words. I wandered into the dimly lit studio and rolled out one of the perfectly stacked mats, completely unaware of what I was getting myself into. Girls stood in groups of two and three, their lean arms intertwined as they chatted. The guy in front of me was upside down- practicing some sort of complex inversion and others were scattered about the room in various poses. A beautiful dark-haired girl in leopard print yoga pants turned down the music as she greeted another person with a huge hug. Everyone seemed to gravitate towards her, smiling as they peeled off their Lululemon warm-up jackets. Finally the door shut and a hush fell over the room in anticipation of class starting.

“I’m Aree if you haven’t met me!” The teacher shouted from the back. “This is an advanced class with beginner poses,” she stated, cranking up the music and settling us into child’s pose. Perfect, I thought to myself. Totally doable.

Some minutes later, I changed my mind. I felt a small drop of sweat roll off my nose and plop onto the mat in front of my face. “Firm your legs, soften your neck and push the ground away,” Aree instructed. We had been holding a high plank position for about a minute and my body was trembling. I spent the next hour and fifteen minutes struggling through what I consider, to this day, one of the hardest physical workouts I’ve ever experienced.

I had tried yoga before and enjoyed it enough – I liked the calming aspect and the fact that I was actually able to use yoga pants for something other than a Netflix marathon on my couch. However, there always seemed to be something missing after. Sure, I was sweaty, or my arms were a bit fatigued from the chatarungas, but I never fully felt like I had completed a full, intense workout.

A little history on my athletic background: I grew up like most other little girls my age in Wyoming: on the ski hill. I learned to swim around the same time I learned to walk, and spent most afternoons prancing and tumbling around the gymnastics gym. I played tennis in the summers, learned to shoot hoops with my dad, and joined a soccer team in middle school. Sports dominated my high school experience. I played on three separate teams, with each season running its course throughout the school year. My summers were filled with various camps around the country. All these experiences had an underlying theme: fun. Bus rides with best friends, jokes with coaches, and winning state championships all made up for the long practices and missed school dances.

Shortly thereafter, I learned another aspect of the sports world when I moved to Georgia to play on a Division I soccer team. This experience taught me the true meaning of intensity and the interesting link between athletic skill and profit. I’ll end up writing a separate blog post on my time as college athlete but lets just say Division I athletics (and fitness tests) are no joke.

After my two years with the team, I tried different stuff on my own: hopped in a boat and rowed crew, struggled through some 5k running races and panted through very intense HIIT routines. After graduating, I had atough time balancing stress, workouts and mindful eating when I first moved to California. I gained some weight, lost too much, and now feel like I’ve finally found harmony as yoga has become part of my daily routine.

After my first class with Aree (revolutionaree), I was hooked. Not only because I liked the music (Vinyasa + Tupac is the best combo) and was avoiding the treadmill (my nemesis) but because of the sense of community (cue:Aree’s Army) I experienced. I also enjoyed the feeling of absolute fatigue, solely from moving my own body around. Krafty tip: find a class and teacher that YOU like. Some people love hot bikram yoga, or maybe you need a relaxing yin class after sitting all day long. I personally love Aree’s style of flow because she PUSHES you and has a “take no prisoner” attitude. As a former soccer player, she knows how to work you out, even just with “beginner poses.” Her energy is infectious and you can’t help but feel happy and ready to work when you step into her space.

If you don’t have access to yoga classes, you can stretch at home, on the beach or at the airport (some major hubs have areas dedicated to yoga complete with mats and workout balls!) Another great way to practice on your own is an app called Down Dog. My friend Katy introduced me to this, and it's made it so easy to squeeze in a quick sesh when I am running late or don’t have time to drive to the gym. Down Dog lets you pick the length, type, music and style of sequence you prefer. The app leads you the entire time, making it easy to get your flow on anywhere!

Soon, I rolled my mat out multiple times a week and found ways to fit class into my work schedule. I noticed small changes... but not physical ones. I started to think differently, looked at situations with a new perspective and felt grateful for the “little things” that usually slipped my mind. I was calmer in difficult situations. I slept better. I was more aware of how my energy was affecting others.

Then I saw the physical differences. My legs felt firmer than ever, I suddenly had triceps and little abs started to peek through. I had forgotten about my obsession with a big booty and noticed my bum had grown and perked up all on its own – no weights or pills or powders or bands. I started to appreciate my body for supporting me through all the rigorous classes, as opposed to worrying so much about what it looked like while doing so.

I still feel intimidated when I come into a class and see other yogis stretched into positions I’ve never seen before. I can’t do crazy handstands yet or hold my leg above my head but that’s what I love the most about yoga: anyone can do it. It doesn’t matter how old you are or how long you’ve been practicing or the brand of your sports bra: there’s no such thing as being “bad” at yoga. There’s also no punishment or aspect of defeat if you fall out of a pose or just want to chill in child’s pose. I spent a large part of my adolescence basing myself and my worth as a person off of my athletic abilities. I’ve only recently learned to find strength from my struggles, instead of feeling down on myself because of them. Yoga has taught me that opposing forces provide balance.

Whether you’re a CrossFit Queen, ruler of the weight rack, can tear up the treadmill, or simply enjoy winding walks through your neighborhood, it’s important to find something that makes you feel strong, accomplished, and mostly: proud of yourself and your body. The practice of yoga has showed me how important self love is: once we’re kind to ourselves, it’s much easier to be kind to those around us.

besos,

Krafty