My Comeback Blog Called Downward Dog

Hello blog world.

If you’re reading this, or if you’ve followed my blog AT ALL in these last few months (years), you will know that

IT

HAS

BEEN

A

MINUTE

since I’ve written.

Now stop judging me. Things just get crazy in this life and we forget to do the things that make us happy in order to check off the things that make us feel competent.

 

You know.

 

Gal things.

 

In order to get my parents off of my back for neglecting my civic duty as an amateur blogger (one of very few?), I am here and ready to write. And to be honest, I feel pretty rusty and I don’t even know if I’m funny anymore so guess you can roast me in the comments section with all of my other followers (?) if you feel like this was a waste of time. If enough people do so, I will take another sabbatical and probably be there until I die.

Anyways.

Here we are.

The topic of this blog has to do with, none other than, the sweet, sweet YMCA.

A word of the wise to all of you fellow amateur bloggers out there—if you are looking for writing material, go to the YMCA. People will provide you with comedy gold without even trying. If you don’t believe me check out one of my previous blogs about a lady who cut the cheese in a Pilates class. That really did happen.

Anyways.

Without further adieu…

Our story begins in the Harris YMCA. The Harris YMCA is generally my least favorite branch because I always see people I kind of know. This usually results in a flashback to my high school days when I was simply way cooler than I am now, OR I have one of those weird encounters when you keep making eye contact with someone but you’re simultaneously doing sumo squats so you want to make darn sure they don’t get the wrong idea because the world has decided to sexualize squatting–particularly of the sumo variety (idk).

(There are several directions this blog could go now, but imma just move forward because most of the above info wasn’t actually relevant at all.)

ANYWAYS.

I’m at the Harris YMCA, getting ready to go to yoga.

Side note: since my last blog I’ve switched over to the dark side of actually liking yoga so you can hate me now, sorry.

SO

YES

I’m in yoga.

Back corner.

The room is full of the “YMCA New Year’s people” (the ones who mysteriously vanish into thin air on February 1^st)

At this point, the lights are down and I feel so Zen I could literally physically transform into a savasanaaaaaoijfcahuwfhuaw.

I am there. Present. Ready to move forward in my practice. My life. My now. My third eye. Hey.

 

And. We begin.

 

We start with some stretching and breathing like normal. I am finding my breath.

 

Feeling like a queen.

 

Flash forward.

 

About 25 minutes we are still stretching the same leg and I think to myself, “This is probably the easiest yoga class I have ever been to.”

 

I look around.

 

And I realize.

 

I

Am

In

A

Yoga

Class

For

Senior

Citizens

 

Heck.

 

(side note: the best part of this story is that whenever I tell someone that I accidently went to a yoga class for seniors, they WITHOUT FAIL respond with,

 

“well you’re a senior”

“a senior in college”

 

 

HEHEHHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHHEHEHEEHEHEH

HahahahahhahahaHAHAHHAHAHHAHHAHHAHHAhahhahahhah

HOHOHOHOHOHOHOOHoooooooHHHHHHHHHHOHOHOHOO

HOOOHOOOOHOOOHOOOOOoooooooooOOOOOOOooooooOOOOOOOOOOhOOOOO

 

(!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!iamrollingwithlaughter!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

 

I just wanted to include that bit to let everyone know that my friends are obviously coming up with some unparalleled comedic material. Check out their Netflix special arriving in 2020.

 

Anywayssssssss.

 

Panic ensues.

 

Why did no one tell me?

 

You may be thinking, “Well Emma. You should have looked around the room prior to the class beginning.”

 

And to that I say,

 

Yeah, you’re right….

 

Quite literally, I was the youngest person by AT LEAST 40 years. And I was in the back corner, so any escape plan would make me look like an old lady hater. And I don’t hate old ladies. I quite admire them.

 

SO

 

YES.

 

But yeah that’s pretty much the end of the story.

 

I went to a yoga class with a bunch of old people and it was super easy.

 

Hope you enjoyed.

 

Bye!