Dear Yoga Teacher, or any fitness instructor for that matter,
Thank you for thinking that I’m just as flexible as Amanda and Rihanna, however, I hate to break it to you, but I am not. I can’t even sit in child’s pose without my feet getting stuck in my butt. Isn’t child’s pose supposed to be the comfortable one when I’m relaxing? I don’t find it relaxing, I feel stressed, and also, I need a muscle relaxant just to keep my knees on the ground, and my head in a normal position. When I have to do downward dog, I feel like I’m a 6 foot Great Dane, unable to keep myself up. I shake everywhere like I’m doing the freaking salsa in an awkward pose. When everyone else is doing that funky thing when their feet are in the air and we have to reach, has it ever occurred to you that I have a stomach and it gets in the way? Seriously, it’s like one of the orange cones that won’t let you move. MY STOMACH IS AN ORANGE CONE.
Your enthusiasm makes me feel like I could do it, but the tire around my waist really just gets in the way.
Whoever said wedding planning is fun and the best time of your life, is obviously a sick human being…and on some serious crack. Wedding planning has been the most stressful, complicated year of my life. Instead of focusing all my energy on losing weight to fit in my dress (which is purchased, in one size smaller), I’ve transferred all the time and energy to planning and the scale is now punishing me for my actions.
When I say the dress is a size smaller, it literally does not close! Somehow, my mom can sense when I’m eating something bad, or something that I shouldn’t be eating, and she sends me pictures of the back of my dress…oh you know the one she secretly took when I was trying them on at the store. The back of the dress that won’t zip, with back fat pouring out of the back- yeah that one. Mom, why can’t you be one of those mom’s that’s technologically challenged, and not know how to send pictures? Ronnie Ginger is also the best mother because she finds it amusing to remind me not to be a fat bride “Hilly, I’m watching SYTTD BIG BLISS, you can look like this bulging beauty”
Instead of focusing on a number to lose, I’m now focusing on having the dress close. Mother Dearest has made a plan with me (which I never agreed to) that if the dress closes, she will gladly pay for the alterations, but should the dress NOT close at all, then I need to pay for alterations, and then refund her for the rest of the dress. So, in order to save myself some money, I will continue to work out in front of the TV, even if Gertrude, my geriatric neighbor watches me through her window every night. Pray for me, people!