Every other Thursday at the church building, one of the girls from the other ward teaches a yoga class. It is the best thing of my life! We all go into the primary room that smells like little kid sweat and listen to relaxing music and talk occasionally about people in our wards and for the majority of the time about childbirth (which i don’t have much to contribute to, but still find fascinating in a slightly horrifying someday-that-will-happen-to-me way) and bend our bodies into all kinds of crazy contortions. And like clockwork, every time I leave i feel completely wonderful and relaxed and strong and full of divinity.
Our bodies really are amazing things, but don’t you think so. They let us stretch them, pound them repeatedly into the pavement, break down tons of fibers inside of their poor muscles and then they THANK us for doing it by getting stronger, faster, more bendy. They even forgive us when we forget to do these things and instead decide to down a whole baking sheet full of tater tots (sounds like a personal problem elise.)
So today, I am grateful for my body. For letting me run 13 miles (this was only one time haha, usually it’s like 3) and giving me the hope to achieve the goal of one day running 26.2. For letting me enjoy the feeling of running just for running’s sake. For somehow, still having the appearance of biceps after months of disuse. For letting me climb tall stuff. For thanking me when I do yoga.