This is going to sound like a typical life journey blog today. Because we all have them, pretty much everyday. Some we love, some we regret, every single one we learn from. What we learn depends of course on how we respond, with our feelings and emotions, our reactions. Age and maturity is a big player in it all.

I have always tried to be physically active. Way back in the day I skated, swam, ran track and field, played ringette and volleyball, curled. Most of these activities were dictated by what was available in the community. I loved every moment. I was young, it shaped my childhood. Showed me I liked to be part of a team, loved to compete, winning was great and losing sucked, but was a life lesson. The rink, as it was called, still is called? was the centre of the community where I grew up. Hockey, figure skating, ringette and curling. Hockey tournaments, the annual figure skating carnival and curling bonspiel’s ruled the community calendar.

I left my hometown for the big city. My structured activities ceased as I was new in this big place. I whole new world opened up and I do regret not embracing all the great programs and activities that were available to me. I guess looking back I honestly felt university and university life was all important. I can credit my husband (boyfriend at the time) for eventually getting me back to my love of curling and volleyball via the recreational leagues we joined.

Then I had two great kids, and a job and a busy life. Like we all do. My kids kept me active when they were little with learning to swim, learning to skate, running around after them in general. I bought an aerobic stepper and the videos, because that is what the craze was. Hated. Every. Moment. But the kids liked playing on it. And then 16ish years ago my husband bought a treadmill with some of his bonus money. I looked at the thing with mixed feelings. My husband was diligent in hopping on board. It took me two years to get on the thing. And even then I used it sporadically or spastically, as that is how I probably looked when I was on it. And then one day, in the dead of winter while the kids were at school I put on my runners, got in the groove and stayed there for a long time. I am not a lover of the gym environment so running on the treadmill at home, and then eventually outside on the pathways fit my life. I was never a huge distance runner, the most ground I ever accomplished was probably 10 km, 5 km being the norm. But I loved putting on my earbuds, the music, the rise of my heart beat. Jogging on a beautiful day, on the great paths in our town was the ultimate motivator.

Then my hips and knees started to hurt. I probably should have stopped sooner than I did. I was running at my parent’s cabin on a rough path and hurt my hip bad. It was sore forever and I was so mad at myself for letting it happen. I was popping Advil before bed so the hip pain would go away and I could sleep. I know. Wrong, wrong, wrong. So I stopped running for what felt like forever. I tried to run again. On the treadmill, outside, slow, but my hip was not on board and I actually felt embarrassed and then mad. Why was my hip not cooperating with me? And everyone else my age was still running. Then after a time my ambition and desire just was not there anymore. Fuck age…

I had taken yoga classes on and off. Never anything consistently. And never in an actual yoga studio. Three years ago I signed up for an hour of Barre class, and then an hour of yoga after at the studio my daughter was dancing at. Loved it! I even went when the weather was terrible. The yogi was wonderful, the class small. My introduction. I started with a restorative class which now in retrospect was the perfect route, plus I was using a yoga app called Down Dog. In restorative yoga the poses or asanas are held longer and alignment is key. Eventually my hips didn’t hurt, or ache, even at night! The holy grail of being pain free!

As I said earlier I am not a lover of gyms. Two of my best friends convinced me to do a power class with them, I could not walk down the stairs for a week. I literally used my ass and crawled my way down. My gym hate continued. The instructor from the restorative classes I took was teaching at a yoga studio in town and encouraged me to attend. My love of yoga and the feels it gave me afterwards convinced me to walk into the studio, purchase a unlimited month membership to try the classes offered. I was hooked.

So that is how on this journey, I have arrived as a lover of down dog and savasana. Huge curve of acceptance, of knowing I will probably never jog or run again willingly. I love to walk, or hike as it is called now. I have fully embraced the rush I feel walking into the yoga studio and then feeling it continue when I leave and take it through each day. Yoga was my answer. I feel no pressure, no reserves. As my favourite yogi says “what brought you to roll out your mat today? this is your class, your intentions, I am only here to guide you”.

Everyone is different, this is only my crazy journey. Some people love the gym atmosphere, some love the thrill of running outside no matter what the weather, some love playing hockey or curling. I am so thankful my kids loved being active through out their childhood. I encouraged them to try many activities. My son found his passion playing volleyball, and into his 20’s is now coaching both court and beach. My daughter has danced since she was 3 and is in her last year of competitive dancing. Yes, I am a dance mom…There is a strong possibility she will be teaching dance next season. I am beyond proud of both of them. Do not cry you idiot…

So go out there and do what makes you happy. Do what helps you forget everything or a little for a mere hour. What raises your heartbeat and gets your endorphins up. For me it is rolling out my yoga mat… getting my flow on.

And always a beach 🏝 …but that is another story, another journey. 🙂