I hate doing yoga in the winter.
I hate sitting/standing/lying on a cold mat.
I hate the amount of time and effort it takes before I start to feel warm.
I hate that my muscles feel so stiff when we begin.
I hate changing out of warm comfy clothes to get into my yoga clothes.
I hate when my sweat instantly chills my skin when I step back into the real world.
I hate the gloomy mood winter puts me in.
I hate that winter makes me want to eat every fatty, comforting foods that cross my way. My body wants to hibernate, not stretch and move and do vinyasas.
I hate the feel of hot air blowing out of the vent and drying out my skin.
I hate that I can’t seem to blink enough tears to make my contacts not stick to my eyeballs.
And all of this ranting makes me realize, I really miss warmth and sweat and spring. I’m sure I’ll change my tune (as I usually do) when it’s 108 this summer because, let’s face it, spring doesn’t really exist in Texas. But for now, I hate doing yoga in the winter. It makes me so cranky.