The Fraudulent Yogi

My name is Mark, and I am a fraud. 

I'm not really a yogi. 

I just go to yoga. 

I don't always do the posture. 

I don't follow up the yoga with other healthy habits. Well, sometimes I try but sooner or later I'm back at the donut shop or the burger joint or the ice cream in the freezer. 

I try new classes. I feel as though I'm capable of new postures/exercises. In reality, I'm not. I'm lazy. I don't put in the work every day. Sometimes I'm so tired after work that I collapse on the bed and tell myself, "Tomorrow. Tomorrow I will try." 

Tomorrow usually doesn't arrive. 

I see other students progress and improve themselves. I watch them pass me by. 

I see people leave the studio happy and smiling. I do not. 

I see my body aging. I loathe it. 

I practice alongside people with careers they LOVE instead of mere jobs. I see happy couples practicing together, showing their LOVE for each other by supporting one another in the room. I see people practice (and teach) with passion. I see the confidence they exude. I see SUCCESS. 

Myself? I am weak. I walk in that room with no strength. I mean no strength. When the instructor is trying to help me with arm balances (Crow or Frog), I make jokes: "It's gonna take a block and tackle to get my legs off the ground..."

I forget to do planks or push-ups (my latest challenges) and I cuss myself out. When I get to class (twice in the last eight days), I find that all the strength, balance, and flexibility I gained during my 100 day challenge are gone. I watch newer people nail postures in no time while I repeatedly fall out again and again... and again. My last class was just abysmal. Nothing went right at all. Everything hurt. Balance and flexibility were rumors, and strength was a flat no show. Oh, did I mention? All the weight I lost during the challenge is back... and then some. My gut had diminished to the point that forward bends were possible, and pulling both legs up in Wind-Removing was easy. No more. I can't breathe in those poses. During stretching, I have trouble reaching forward and touching or grasping my toes. 

I don't know what I should do. 

Press on?

Quit?

Go grab a cheeseburger?

Lately I've been thinking. 

Thinking of epitaphs. 

For me. 

Namaste.