Only Dumbbells Drop Dumbbells

I dragged my sorry carcass out of bed for Morning Energy Yoga today. Since the town recreation center expanded, we have two rooms for yoga. My classes rotate upstairs to downstairs. Interesting design choice, someone decided to put the weight room upstairs. Directly above the downstairs studio.

To be fair, the downstairs room hosts Zumba, Fit Fun Flex, and RIPPED in addition to the many yoga classes during the day. This morning seemed particularly disruptive. You know what I’m talking about. BOOM BA BOOM.


If Someone’s Looking at You, They Are Not Impressed. They Are Irritated.


Those weight lifting maniacs are upstairs dropping their fucking weights like olympian dead lifters. When did this become a thing? I lift weights and let me tell you, it’s all about control. Sure, I may be fatiguing out, but fuck if I have those weights managed.

Can You Read?

A little hint for those of you mad lifters, it’s absolutely unnecessary and only proves you’re lifting out of your league. Don’t take my dainty word for it, I looked it up. Dropping the weights isn’t needed 90% of the time. In fact, there are signs all over the gym specifically saying, “DON’T DROP THE WEIGHTS.”

But do any of those weight dropping knuckleheads adhere to the rules? Hell no, never mind there is a friggin’ yoga class going on downstairs. Dropping those monsters interrupts the fitness classes I teach as well.

Okay, don’t consider your bullshit disruptive behavior, consider the weights. They aren’t designed to be dropped as part of the work out. Losing control of your weight means something ain’t right and I’m not talking fatigue.


Or perhaps your eyes were bigger than your pecs and there was just too much weight in your hands. Or possibly your form sucks. -Bob Doucette


Are You Illya Illyin? Then Don’t Drop The Friggin’ Weights.

Y’all have been watching too much television. Jim Schmitz, former U.S. Olympic Weightlifting Coach even says it.  I get it, sometimes shit goes down and you have to drop a weight. But that crap should NOT be a part of your normal routine.


Lowering weights properly won’t weaken you. – Jim Schmitz


I’m not alone in my rage either.

Last month, during Evening Yoga savasana in the upstairs room, some bonehead was in the hallway doing push ups and in between was sliding a twenty pound barbell weight along the floor and letting it spin around to thunk like a quarter. Outside of the studio miles away from the weight room!

And he was pissed at me for gently, GENTLY I tell you, asking him to move it back to the weight room.

Not only is it bad form, both literally and metaphorically, it’s part of the Code, man! You’re not impressing anyone and quite likely you’re just moments shy of having a barbell swung at your head.


Gym Etiquette 

Gym Idiots

Don’t Be A Meathead


The Goddess Welcomes You

A therapeutic-based style of yoga incorporating a focus on healthy spinal alignment, corrective joint alignment, stronger utilization of co-concentric muscle activation for powerful, lean support with zero fucks to give.



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More Sleep….Please

Me most Wednesday mornings.

I enjoy sleeping. You know those studies the omnipotent they have published outlining all of the elements of a healthy night’s sleep. No two articles agree on the ideal ratio of hours to help keep you well, rested, and moving. Personally, I’m an eight and a half to ten-hour gal. You night owls are laughing.

I’ve learned to get less than eight hours, especially several nights in a row, ignites a murderous, blood haze in me. It’s no laughing matter. Everyone around me pays. The optimal schedule for me is turning off the lights at nine and opening my eyes around six-thirty. Oh, I can get up early. When I was a teacher, I woke at four-thirty to go workout, but doing so meant going to bed no later than eight-thirty. Sometimes it was all I could do to keep my eyes open until eight.

This prototypical agenda shifts seasonally. It’s hard for me to go to bed when the sun is up. I keep suggesting nuclear black-out shades, but The Beard doesn’t seem too excited by the prospect. In the summer, I generally turn off the lights around nine-thirty or ten. I still wake up around six. It’s not a good thing.

Weekdays are rough. I have to get up at five a.m. to get my double espresso in before I teach at six fifteen. Saturdays are a bit of a reprieve. The alarm goes off at seven a.m.

Without an alarm, I could sleep until seven, but we have dogs. Dogs who love to keep a strict timetable. Our alpha girl, Oona, monitors the shifting light of the sun with rabid attention. If I so much as roll over around alarm time, she’s up and in my face reminding me she’s one minute away from starvation.

Some mornings I would like to sleep until seven. Wah, wah, I know it’s terrible.

Those early week days are sometimes difficult for me to get motivated. Seriously, if I weren’t teaching the class, I might throw some food at the dogs and crawl back into bed.

I feel the same way about my late evening class. It’s at seven-thirty. If I weren’t teaching, I’d definitely be tempted to open a bottle of wine and practice Vino Yoga.

I don’t. In the mornings, I make a double espresso and remind myself I have clients who like my class. I also tell myself how great I’ll feel after the first hour. I joke about the coffee kicking in, but it’s really the yoga. Moving my body, breathing, and letting my mind work the mat wakes me up and gets me going like a double espresso. Okay, maybe the coffee is also kicking in.

Same thing on those evenings. I trudge out the door, but once I see my clients and pick up the vibe of the class I always feel better after the practice.

I’m not advocating waking up at an ungodly hour, especially because everyone’s ungodly is different. I would like to see you find a yoga class that not only fits your style but also fits your schedule. If that’s at 8:30 a.m. or even later, I don’t judge.

Maybe I’ll judge if it’s a Wednesday morning when I’ve barely squeaked in my eight hours.

Fad Yoga. WTF?

So when you say you’re writing a yoga book, which I am, people start sending you all kinds of crazy yoga fads. Cat yoga. Metal yoga. Screaming yoga. Karaoke yoga. Facial yoga, I can’t even. Naked yoga. Are you kidding me? Yoga pants are bad enough. SNAKE yoga? Oh hell no. And yes, Stand Up Paddle Board yoga . . . I am going to earn my certification in this fad yoga in August. If I don’t drown or get hypothermia first. Hey, I need some continuing ed credits, yes even for yoga goddamn it and it was the least hippy dippy. (more…)