How Yoga Made My Body Speak To Me Again

“I know what you need.”

Y’all.

My body has forgiven me.

She has soooo forgiven me.

I spend a good amount of time putting her through some things.

I spend a lot of time pushing her past her limits. Insisting that she embrace discomfort and sometimes even pain. Forcing her to get stronger.

And I love it. I do.

If you can’t tell, I am quite fond of doing really stupid things and then telling y’all about it.

And, I mean, you seem to keep reading, so…

But every now and then I try to reward her with something other than chips and beer.

Not nearly often enough.

That’s only because my location and work schedules don’t allow me easy access to THE magic that is Roanoke Yoga.

But I think some of you don’t reward your bodies in this way because you don’t understand exactly how magical it is.

Like you’ve either never experienced yoga. Or you have, but you haven’t experienced Roanoke Yoga, specifically.

Because Roanoke Yoga isn’t just yoga.

It’s magic.

There’s a reason she was voted Roanoke’s Best Yoga/Pilates Instructor.

Platinum, baby.

Do you know what it takes to go platinum?

I want to adequately describe what I experienced today. To make my body so so happy with me. I’m not sure I can. But obviously I’m gonna try.

When I woke up this morning, my body was still really pissy. I let her sleep in until 6:30, but she just called me a b-word and threatened to stay there all damn day. I offered her an entire pot of coffee, and she begrudgingly agreed to move. But she was still refusing to actually speak to me.

So, I said, “yoga.”

“Just yoga?”

“No. Not just yoga. Roanoke Yoga.”

“Hmph. Ok. Fine. Let’s go.”

Now, I wasn’t entirely forthcoming with my body.

Because the yoga we were going to was a Barre class.

Have you ever been to one of these?

My body hadn’t.

Until this morning.

It’s not all stretchy, bendy, flexy goodness. It’s sweat and challenge and more sweat and sculpting and muscles and lots more sweat and repetitions until you think you’re gonna implode until…release. Beautiful release. At the very end. The most amazing stretch ever.

But mostly, it’s sweat.

The way I understand it, this type of class helps you release a crap ton of toxins.

I’m hoping I released all of the toxins from those two hot dogs I inhaled after Day Creek yesterday.

My body was too confused to be fully pissy that she’d been duped into something akin to HIIT at the yoga class I promised her. That she’d been forced to work so hard. That she will undoubtedly feel every single muscle in surround sound tomorrow.

“What just happened? Did we just-? Was that-? Wait. Where are we???”

“Shhhh.”

The next class was Power Yoga.

Also not stretchy, bendy, flexy goodness.

I’m assuming even more of a challenge than Barre.

But I don’t know.

Because I didn’t take Power Yoga.

No.

Instead, as I was the ONLY person present at noon, Roanoke Yoga said we could do whatever I wanted. And asked me what I needed.

And this is part of the beauty of Roanoke Yoga. She doesn’t have to stick to a script. She can switch things up at the last second to suit the needs of her participants.

So, she threw her pre-planned class out the window and chose to lead a class designed specifically for me.

On the fly.

I’m not known for my verbal skills.

I can explain things fairly easily in written words. But mouth words are more of a challenge for me.

I produced some sort of nonsensical explanation of what I’d done over the weekend and how angry my body was and probably what I was planning to make for dinner. I don’t know.

But she did.

“I know what you need.”

Y’all.

Seriously.

When Roanoke Yoga tells you she knows what you need, she ain’t even playin.

She’s not guessing.

She knows exactly what you need.

What followed for the next hour was the most powerful, restorative, spiritual practice I’ve ever experienced.

I went places that I rarely have the opportunity to visit.

I could feel my creative centers opening wide. I swear if I’d had access to a laptop during this class, I could’ve written an entire novel in that one hour.

And it went even deeper than that.

I wish I could retain the names of the poses Roanoke Yoga walks you through. But I’m me. I can barely retain what day it is.

It was so clear how in tune she was with me. That she was creating this class moment by moment in response to where I needed it to go. Even though I was completely incapable of verbalizing where that was.

She stretched and moved my ridiculously exhausted muscles.

At one point, I was reclining on a bolster as Roanoke Yoga pressed and massaged.

By the end, I had tears in my eyes. Not out of sadness or anything negative. I just felt so entirely at peace with who I am. I don’t know. I can’t even explain it. It was beautiful.

And while I’m absolutely certain that Roanoke Yoga wouldn’t have batted an eye at me allowing all of that emotion to fully release, I’m still not grown enough as a person to allow that to happen. So, I got myself under control before heading back out into the world.

I could hear my body thanking me for what was happening. Like, apologizing for all those mean things she said to me this morning and thanking me over and over and promising to never stop speaking to me again.

We all know that’s not true. Because tomorrow morning I’m taking her to PlayFITStayFIT for HIIT with Tiny Brazilian.

And I may have told Tiny Brazilian that my body was so happy with what she had experienced today, that I don’t even care how much torture she puts me through tomorrow.

Soooo…

But it’s ok.

Because Wednesday night is Chakra night at Roanoke Yoga.

And this Wednesday is Sacral Chakra night.

Remember that time that doctor told me my hips have no sway?

Yeah.

My hips are so gonna get their sway back…

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