In The Land of Yoga Pants
West LA. Land of Yoga Pants. I took my first yoga class ten years ago in Santa Monica. I enjoyed
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West LA. Land of Yoga Pants. I took my first yoga class ten years ago in Santa Monica. I enjoyed
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I’m supposed to be “writing” an hour a day (I don’t know why I put the word in quotes). So
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Yes, I have issues with yoga teachers. They must’ve tortured me in a past life. Maybe they were medieval doctors
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My friend talked me into going to yoga this morning. I hadn’t been in a while for two reasons: a)
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Last night I walked into yoga class to witness the tail end of an argument that seemed on the verge
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I got to yoga late this morning and so made a lot rustling noises with my purse and shoes, thus,
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Towards the end of every yoga class I have felt the occasional splash of water on my face or body.
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Tonight a loud “CRACK!” echoed throughout my yoga class, like someone had just pulled a branch off of a tree.
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I ended my yoga practice tonight by chastising myself for not keeping my old PPO health insurance (never sign up
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I took my mom to my super hard-core Power Yoga class (which is dedicated to making people spiritually connected AND
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I really can’t keep going to yoga in my current work-out wardrobe. It’s actually a disgrace, to be quite honest.
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