Is This a Question for Emily Post?

Dear Emily Post (or whoever knows the answer to this question),

I know there has been a sizable debate taking place over the past few months regarding the appropriateness of yoga pants and leggings--where they can and can't be worn, or if they should be worn at all. I am leaving that decision to you and your expertise in all things etiquette.

I know what people say about assuming things, but I hope I'm safe in this assumption. For the sake of our discussion today, let's assume that it is appropriate to wear yoga pants and leggings in a . . . wait for it . . . yoga class.

Let me set the stage before I ask my question.

Yoga, by definition, is union--union between the breath and the movements of the body. Many different postures are assumed (there's that word again) to help increase body awareness, flexibility, and connection with the breath.

Picture, if you will, one of the most common poses associated with the ancient practice of yoga--downward facing dog, adho mukha svanasana.

image from here

It looks easy, but in practice, this is a very difficult pose to master. That is not the reason for my question.

Getting into down dog (or other poses during a yoga practice) places strain on the fabric of your pants/shorts/leggings. Without going into too much detail, I can tell you that I have seen lacy thongs, striped briefs, and on occasion, I've seen too much altogether.

Here is the question:

Whether in an exercise class, at the gym, or squatting to help a child pick up a dropped sucker at Target, is it appropriate to tell someone that their pants/leggings/shorts are transparent when pulled too tight? Or that their shorts gape open too widely as you sit across from them in class?

I wouldn't want to offend, but I'm positive that I would like to know if my clothes were doing an indecent job of covering my self.

Surely I'm not the only one who has experienced this uncomfortable situation.

Your timely response would be greatly appreciated, since I plan to attend yoga again tomorrow night.

Thank you for your time.

Sincerely,

A slightly uncomfortable yogi (in hopefully opaque yoga pants)

Saturday #32--Slacker

Summer has pushed my yoga practice to the back burner.

My hips are aching and tight.

Time to get back on the mat.

Saturday #29--Bliss

Yoga at sunrise on the deck of a ship in the middle of the Caribbean.

Yoga will never be the same.

Saturday #10

If you ever see me wearing this . . .

. . . please be assured that there is no statement tied to the do-rag. You can be certain that I've just come from yoga. There is no better sweatband available.

Saturday #1

When I was rereading my 2013 posts for Emmy Mom's year in review, I noticed a member of my family noticeably absent from my blog for much of the year.

Me.

Oh I was there writing the posts and taking the pictures, but weeks went by with me hiding from view.

I'm not very comfortable in front of the camera, and I take opportunities to be the photographer and not the photographed whenever the option presents itself. I resolved that this year I would force myself from behind the lens once a week. Not in an indulgent "selfie" kind of way but in a "learning-to-love-my-body" kind of way.

Thin and fat women, tall and short women, black and white women, old and young women have body issues.  One of mine is my feet. I've hated my feet as long as I can remember.  My ugly little hammer toes squish over each other in uncomfortable ways, and no matter how much I concentrate, I can't straighten them out.  I was so self-conscious about them that I refused to wear anything but closed-toe sandals until about fifteen years ago.  Even now, I still think twice when I wear shoes that show my ugly feet.

Yoga focuses on your feet many times during each practice.  You fix your gaze on your feet in some poses and use your feet to ground other poses.  Consciously and frequently, you point or flex your toes, or use your feet to fully relax in savasana.  I have never been able to touch my toes--either from a sitting position or a standing position--ever in my life. When I began yoga last September, my biggest goal was to be able to touch my toes.  Just to graze my fingertips across my toenails would be enough for celebration.

After eighteen months of practice, I can now wrap my hands completely around my feet in a sitting position and I can palm the floor while standing.  Each time I reach for my feet, I still get a little giddy knowing that I have accomplished something small.

Now I love the sight of my feet during my practice, and I'm learning to love them the rest of the day, too.

Foto Friday--Where Has That Been Hiding?

Hyrum ran to my side one day and asked me if I knew where a really long stick was.

That's not an unusual question around here, so I wasn't curious at all when I said, "Nope, sorry."

A few minutes later he was back.

"Are you sure you don't know where a really long stick is?"

"What do you need it for?"

"We found our tent, and we don't have a stick to hold it up for Evie to sleep in it tonight."

That tent.  I made it when we lived in Chicago--when Heidi and Tucker were three and two.  I was such an overprotective, stressed out mother back then that I would hardly let the kids play in it for fear that they would "ruin" it or "tear" it.

What kind of a mom makes a cool thing for her kids and then practically prohibits them from using it???

That's what kind of mom I used to be, I guess.

Now I'm lucky if my kids wear matching socks to school.  Who cares?  They're under their shoes, right?

Postscript: I purposely kept the photos I took at the wedding shoot a little bit of a mystery, but Karli and her mom posted the link to this picture on Facebook, so I guess it's fair game. I know.  Awesome.

And for those of you who asked (and are local), I do yoga at Floating Lotus Studio on Robson and Main in downtown Mesa.  I love it there.  Every class I've taken has had great, understanding instructors, and my practice has improved immensely since I started there.  I actually spoke with Steve Lynch, the owner, and if you call or go down to the studio and mention my name, he will give you a fifteen-class card for $25 so you can try out the classes.  And before you think I wield some otherworldly power down there, this is the same offer that he occasionally offers via groupon.  Call me if you need someone to go with you.  I love it there.

For those of you who asked which DVDs I use, my favorites are by Rodney Yee.  He is good at explaining, goes slow, and teaches well.  His "Daily Yoga" or "Beginner's Yoga" are good places to start.  Good luck!

Have a great weekend.  More football on tap for us.  Go Heroes!

The End of 43--It's My Birthday, Part 3

It's my birthday!

August 21, 1969.

Forty-four years I've been here. That sounds simultaneously long and short--maybe because I've reached the middle of life.

As a birthday present to myself, I'm taking the week to reflect on a few things I learned this last year.

Last year's birthday post was a bit darker.  Funny how much difference one year can make.

On Monday, I wrote about my photography class and how much joy I've felt as my skills have improved.

Yesterday I posted the results of a year of scripture study.

I saved the best for last.

In August 2008,  I was training for the St. George marathon.  I had run 16 miles that day, and I was feeling pretty great.  Brad and I went to see Heath Ledger and Christian Bale in Batman that night, and about halfway through the movie, I excused myself to use the bathroom.

After you run such a long distance, your body kind of stages a revolt--everything aches and hurts and creaks, and that is to be expected.  But when I walked back to the theater, I felt something different, something very wrong.  I had pain in my hips that couldn't be explained away by my training run--I had a serious injury and I knew that my marathon would have to be abandoned.

I went to the doctor, but nothing really came up on an MRI.  I gave up running long distances, and hoped I would heal, but a few months later, I was pregnant with Eve, so I stopped all attempts to fix my worn-out hips and focused on the new baby.

Fast forward to 2012, and I had been suffering with escalating hip pain for four years. I figured eight pregnancies and two marathons had permanently damaged my hips--I couldn't walk up or down the stairs without pain shooting down my legs.  I went to the doctor for more tests, but nothing new was discovered.  I went to the chiropractor, and after six weeks, my hips were even worse and I could barely walk.

I decided to try something completely different from running and doctors and chiropractors and suffering in silence.

Last September, I began to practice yoga. I practiced faithfully at home for six months, and then last March, I joined a yoga studio.

Within a month, I noticed a marked difference in how my hips felt.

By November, I was ran a 10K, and in March, I ran a half-marathon--a distance I never dreamed I would reach again.

Not only has yoga enabled me to run again, it has changed my body in many other ways. When I began my practice, I couldn't touch my toes.  Now, I can grasp my wrists underneath my feet and contort my body into crazy positions. I recognize the relationship between breathing and movement, and my concentration has improved.  I love challenging the movements of my body, and I see minor improvements in my positions all the time. I have more muscle mass than any time in my life, and I am more aware of how I carry my body throughout the day.  My posture has improved, and my stress level has dropped. I notice more creaks and aches in my body when I neglect my practice for more than a day or two, and I feel younger and better every time I leave the mat.

Yoga brings focus to my exercise and forces me to look inward.  To say I love yoga is incorrect.

I have adopted yoga as part of my life.

And what do I have planned for my big birthday day?  A few errands, maybe a little shopping.  Dinner with my family.

And you can bet I will be at the studio on the mat today, because I can think of no better way to celebrate the beginning of 44 than with a few vinyasas and savasana.

Here's to 44.  May it be as amazing and life-changing as 43.