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Trading Yoga for Cacti


When Sherry said one night during class that running is bad for you, I knew I had found my yoga instructor-match-made-in-heaven. After busting my knee (which never fully recovered) while training for the LA Marathon a few years back, I never did believe that running could be all that great for one’s body. And it just feels good to have someone who can balance her entire body’s weight upside down on her pinky and ring finger to second the notion. See, the great thing about Sherry’s classes are that you can push yourself as hard as you want, and you can pick and choose which Sherryisms you want to adhere to.

Whether because of the Sherryisms (as Denise calls them) or because of the release my entire body feels after each class, I haven’t missed Wednesday yoga for the past 2 months. Which is saying a lot considering that I didn’t even miss it on the day I found out Alan had stage 3 cancer. Or on the day I had that wicked sore throat. And not even on the day I suffered from obscene amounts of gas from the soda Nathalie gave me after lunch.

Today is the first Wednesday yoga class I’ve missed and it’s only because I’m in Phoenix for the next two days on a business trip, or, “On Business.” (Sounds so much huffier and puffier when it’s just “On Business,” doesn’t it?) Regrettably, since teleportation doesn’t exist yet, I instead spent my evening admiring the many cacti just sticking up out of the ground next to the sidewalk pretending to be trees. Tomorrow we are going to prison (the real reason we’re here) to meet with our “Business Associates” (the telemarketing team that does our cold calls is a group of ladies doing time…) I’ve never been to Phoenix before, and I’ve definitely never been to prison, so needless to say, I’m pretty jazzed about the whole thing.

Last modified: January 10, 2019