Image
  • Home
  • About
    • FAQ
    • About Heavyweight Yoga
    • About Abby
  • Media
    • Media Coverage
    • Media Resources
  • Calendar
  • Events
    • Classes
  • Shop
  • Blog
  • Contact

Magic Numbers For Us All

Today the San Antonio Spurs magic number to get into the playoff round  is 2. It reminded me of one of my favorite posts from 2017 when the playoff format was different, but the Magic Numbers sytem worked just the same. ENJOY!

As most of you already know, I love basketball and am passionate about my San Antonio Spurs. Even though he’s now retired, I love having us all stretch Tim Duncan Tall. Just as on and off the yoga mat, there’s lots of life to be learned on and off the basketball court.

A spectacular slamdunk and an ordinary tip-in both score the same 2 points. Sportsmanship counts, reflected not only in final scores, but also in humility during and after the game. A Hall of Fame player often never wears a Finals ring.

As playoff time nears there’s a lot of talk about a team’s Magic Number. This is a combination of wins and losses that determines a team’s ranking in the playoffs. You can advance by winning, but you can also advance by someone else winning over your close competition.

It all sounds more mathematical than it really is, but it got me to thinking — what if in life we all had a Magic Number? So many good deeds, so many acts of kindness and we’d go to the championship round. Do something not so good — and we all do — no worries, our friends will help us out and push us ahead.

I like thinking our Life Magic Number is infinite in scope. That in our lifetime we all will have enough opportunity to do good to make us champions, even if there’s no ring at the end of the season.

GO SPURS GO!

Riding the Rosedale 2022

Yoga and Riding the Rosedale

Posted by Abby Lentz 
· April 2, 2022 
· No Comments

 

As you’d expect, yoga helps us bicycle in many ways — balance, leg alignment, strengthening, and all other physical properties of yoga. However, last week I found it was the less visible benefits of yoga that got me through as Rosedale Rider 36546.

While getting up the morning of my ride, I found my mantra: Exhale Fear, Inhale Fun. Repeated in the shower, getting dressed in clothes I just pulled out of the closet the day before, and for sure while driving over to The Pitch, where the Rosedale Ride started. I found my Tadasansa feet as I waited for my group of us 25-milers to be called to the starting line.

 

Deciding to do the Rosedale got me riding again and back into the gym — both activities I had forgotten how much I enjoy. Yoga gifted me the confidence to make this decision to ride after being off my bike since 2019; I raised money and awareness for the amazing Rosedale School for children with severe special needs. I started my Rosedale adventure knowing that it was unlikely that I’d be able to ride all 25 miles. A Thursday night preview of the route showed 17 hills with grades over 2%. Plus, there were other, smaller hills, too. I’d signed up because I felt that all I needed was progress — not perfection. Just as with yoga, it would not be about finishing all 25 miles— it would be all about the effort.

I rode away from the start line unsure what I’d be capable to achieve. Turned out the initial hill that had scared me in the first mile was doable with my early legs! After riding some flats the next hill I made it up a little over halfway. My inner voice told me it was better to ask for help then to risk falling trying to get up the second hill with traffic whizzing by so I called for sag team of Rod and Janet to take me up the hill. I hadn’t made it much farther beyond that hill before another one showed up. I was able to ride about half-way up before coming off my bike. No sag, though, as I walked Mariah, my trusty Specialized Steed, up to the top.

The body awareness that I practice in yoga made it clear to me when I had done enough. The next hill would be a monster, and I had already started to be unsteady. I remembered telling many of you that Sweet Discomfort — usually defined as a range of motion — can also be a length of time. You want to go past your edge into exertion, but not so far past that you’re unable to exit a pose safely, or a bicycle. Just as there’s no pain in yoga, I was reminded, there should be no pain in bike riding, either. All my supporters, especially my domestique and partner Ron, were trusting me to stop when I could not safely continue.

I give my deepest thanks for all your donations. You really did get me going and kept me going with your cheers in my heart to carry me forwward. I am proud to say I was the Number 3 fundraiser with over 20 contributors — I thank all of you who helped me set that record, too!

Of course, I was disappointed that I was unable to make it the entire 25 miles, or even to the rest stop at the 7-mile marker. I cried some after getting off my bike, knowing I was done, but those sad tears quickly turned to ones of joy as I had made it! I rode and walked for over 6 miles, which is my personal best for 2022. I’ll consider it my baseline, for now. I’ll do more next year with hopes that I can ride for all of you at age 75!

 

No Comments
Categories : Awareness, Featured, Poses, Yoga Off the Mat

My 50-Year Journey with Yoga

Posted by Abby Lentz 
· March 11, 2022 
· No Comments

(Me with Nathan, 3, and daughter Maribeth not yet one)

It’s hard to believe that my baby boy turned 50 this week! I wonder how he can be that old when I’m the one who feels 50 — not even close to my birthday number of 74 next month. We had a joyful family celebration to welcome his new decade, right down to his nephews finding a way to “fall” into the pool and get a first-of-the-season swim before the night was over.

(Birthday boy front right with my brother Kenny in blue. Ron and I on the left)

For me, his birth marked not only the change in my role—for from then on, I’d always be a mother — but it marked my introduction to yoga. My dear mother-in-law, Jean Colker, was a survivor of the first magnitude: a young girl overcoming the death of both her parents, the Great Depression, and the sudden death of her first husband before their first child was born. Jean was tough but could also be sensitive and always observant. I believe she wanted my new motherhood to be so different from hers that when she saw the local YMCA was hosting a Mother’s Day Out morning program, she volunteered to watch over her new grandson.

It was at this program I was first introduced to yoga, so I established March 1972 as the beginning of my personal yoga practice.

In celebrating my 50 years of doing yoga, I don’t want anybody to think that for all these years I’ve been on the mat every day or even every week. Lots of distractions over 50 years! Another child to celebrate—a girl this time—a life-changing move to Austin in 1977 to start a new business, and then its collapse, along with the collapse of my first marriage.

Many joyful new beginnings during these years, though, as I went to college for the first time at the University of Texas at Austin. I was classified as a SOTA, a Student Older Than Average. Being a Presidential Scholar for my last two years, graduating with Highest Honors, for sure a time when I lost track of my mat yoga practice, squeezing in study time instead. Working downtown Austin at a bank—boy, were they surprised to see their “wunderkind” candidate was actually almost 40. Not lasting a year in the corporate crush, I landed a job in a small magazine publishing company. Not knowing what a “Fulfillment Coordinator” was, I applied simply because the phone number in their want ad was the same exchange as mine, making them close to home.

Starting out in circulation, the heart of any publication, made it easy to absorb everything I could from a job that began with just typing address labels. By the time I left my publishing career, I had become a Circulation Director, Sales Manager and Publisher of a technical cluster of magazines, before creating my own company and technical journal with writer-husband Ron. That last one is a job I still hold as publisher/muse and wife.

(Celebrating 10 years of our paper-baby, the 3000 NewsWire in 2005)

Having been married at 19, I got to fall in and out of love as an adult to find my perfect pairing with Ron, a marriage going on 32 years now. Embracing the role of stair-mom (sounds better than stepmother) to his then-7-year-old son putting aside my dreams of moving to LA to land a job in a publishing conglomerate. That same boy, who is now a 39-year-old man, who with his wife has gifted us with those two very-wet grandsons to go with our two grandgirls, who live in Houston with my daughter.

(A warmer weather swim with all the Grands)

So, what does this all have to do with my yoga practice?

It’s easier than it seems, for it’s not just about my time on the mat or studying with yoga luminaries, Lilias Folan, Judith Lasaster and Eric Schiffmann. Or being introduced to Kripalu, the yoga of compassion, by gifted Austin yoga teacher Nina Beucler. Or going on to grow under the guidance of Rebecca Kronlage at Kripalu, putting me on the path to teach and understand yoga poses and their purpose.

(Dancing with Lilias Folan at her Women’s Retreat at Feathered Pipe Ranch)

When you practice yoga, it’s not really about how much you do or when. It’s not really about creating an unbreakable chain of some self-determined kind. Once you have your yoga practice, it will be with you always. It may start on the mat, or in the chair, but it doesn’t end there. Standing on my head in my thirties while Johnny Carson did his monologue seemed a great way to integrate yoga into my busy day. But now my yoga practice is about my learning how to grieve the loss of that prowess, finding a way to be just as fulfilled with being able to do Legs-Up-the-Wall instead.

The things you may think of as the part to rush through, or maybe even skip altogether — beginning breathing and final relaxation— turn out to be the most lasting and the most beneficial, especially in your most stressful times. It’s why I can celebrate 50 years of yoga without having regularly ticked off a box on a to-do list.

Once you practice yoga it will wrap you up like a warm blanket when times are cold. It will become your invisible net to catch you when you fall — and we all fall and most of us usually more than once. Yoga will always be with you, helping you move when stuck in the mire, but more importantly, helping you to find and to be your best Self even when you really don’t want to be. When all seems dark, yoga will be there to help light your way.

This is just a glimpse of my journey with yoga. This journey continues to be one that I’m happy to share each week, each class, each conversation. It’s such an honor to be your guide in yoga as you join me both on and off the mat or now chair.

For each of you, I celebrate with gratitude into my yoga year 51.

Singing favorite song from Kismet “Olive Tree” at Kripalu graduation celebration June, 2004

 

No Comments
Categories : Awareness, Featured, Poses, Yoga Off the Mat

Why I Practice Tadasana

Posted by Abby Lentz 
· February 2, 2022 
· No Comments

 

We find ourselves standing hundreds of times a week, so what’s the big deal about working on Tadasana?

On the mat Tadasana, Mountain pose, helps us find perfect alignment of our frame so our muscles strengthen evenly, allowing us to stand with support and ease. I have pictures of my Tadasana feet from all over. At my favorite hotel, the Blue Sea in San Diego.

Inside the Paramount Theatre on their beautifully restored carpet.

In the sand on beaches—in Mexico, both oceans, plus the Gulf.

In last year’s surprise snow here in Austin.

The longest I’ve stood in Tadasana was close to two hours in San Antonio on the Riverwalk. Ron and I stood waiting for the Spurs’ barges to come by as we all celebrated their fifth NBA Championship in 2014.

I have stood in Tadasana for practical reasons: in line at the HEB, or at Petco waiting for vet services for our new puppy Ella, or ages ago at the post office. I have also stood in Tadasana for fun, like hosting our 2022 New Year’s Eve Sock Hop with the grandkids.

While these are all good reasons to be able to stand upright with ease, last Saturday night I discovered my deepest motivation to work on Tadasana.

It was simple. There are no chairs in Room 8 at the St. David’s South Hospital intensive care unit. When you come to realize this may be your last time to see a dear friend, you want to be able to stand for as long as you can. A one-sided conversation can still take up a lot of time to chat—catching up, dishing dirt, and saying all the things you want to say so you don’t wake up in the middle of the night wishing you had told her this or that.

You want to be able to stand long enough to sing made-up ditties to her. “A blessing on your head Maggie Rhode, Maggie Rhode,” based on a song from Fiddler on the Roof. You don’t want your feet, ankles, or back to start hurting—you want to sound cheerful, even though you’ve been told she cannot hear you. You don’t want to run out of time to sing Happy Trails to You, written by Dale Evans—a song, it turned out, Mags heard nightly as a little girl being tucked into bed by her dad.

You practice Tadasana—and all of yoga—so you can be your Best Self off the mat when you need it the most.

Deep thanks to all of you who have held Maggie in Light and Love over the past four months as our Happy Baby. It’s been a long, yet short journey for her, fighting off cancer. As they say in Cool Runnings, “Peace be the journey.” From here in Austin Amy’s Ice Cream tells us to “Eat dessert first.” However, I feel it was best expressed by songwriter Warren Zevon, who advised us to “Enjoy every sandwich.” Zevon’s signature song about life and death reminding us all to “keep me in your heart for a while.”

Rest in Peace, as you continue the great adventure, Margaret “Maggie” Rhode (1956-2022) with beloved sisters Sue (left)  and Amy (center).

Please know I do take requests for Happy Baby – it can be for anyone for any reason, including celebrating a new baby!

 

 

No Comments
Categories : Awareness, Featured, Poses, Yoga Off the Mat

A Young Bride’s Look at MLK

Posted by Abby Lentz 
· January 16, 2022 
· No Comments

Because I was living in Washington, DC in April of 1968, I have a deep connection to the death of Martin Luther King, Jr. As new bride of just 19, I found myself in the early throes of moving from DC to Toledo, Ohio where my husband of three months was already working. It might be hard to believe in these times where it’s impossible to escape the news, but 54 years ago with no access to any media, I walked to work as usual on that April day, unaware of Dr. King’s death. Inside the office, as always, Muzak was playing in the background. Our wake-up call only came when the elderly Black postman plopped into a chair to gather himself. “Those young bucks out there are tearing down the city.”

We turned on the radio to hear the news that, in fact, DC was under siege as rioting swept the city. Knowing I was alone, my boss told me to go to my parents’ home, not understanding the strain on the bus service during this emergency.

I stopped briefly at my apartment to pick up a few things and call my mom, so she would know I was safely on my way. Living downtown, I walked to the central Greyhound station, looking over my shoulder again and again, all while the sound of shouting and broken glass rang out. Shop windows were being broken — the looting had begun. Quickening my pace, I saw flashes of brilliant colors as garments flew out of the D J Kaufman display window down the block.

The station was in total chaos with people boarding buses even without tickets. Crammed over any safety limits, I found myself grateful just to be standing in the aisle as the bus made its way south to St. Mary’s County. Sirens filled the air followed by yelling inside the bus to point out fires along our route. A sense of relief washed over us as we left the burning city behind.

From the safety of my parents’ home many miles away, I watched the days unfold. I needed to return to my DC apartment the following week to pack for our move. We lived off Thomas Circle, just up from the White House. As I walked to our apartment, I was shocked to see armed soldiers on every corner. Martial law was enacted, forcing an early curfew. My moving would now become a two-day process of being packed up then picked up the next day.

I spent my last night sleeping on the floor. It was a sad farewell to the city that I loved as a child, growing up miles away in the small town of Tall Timbers. I continue to love DC as an adult with every visit. It was a sad farewell to the time of Dr. King and the interruption of his dream. Like everything around justice, it was only delayed.

Warrior II teaches us that strength can come from long holds, focus and vision. As I left DC to start a new life in a new city with a new husband, without knowing it I found my own inner Warrior II. In Warrior II we look forward, not backward, gathering our courage from our personal horizons. We gain strength, determination — and a sense of adventure that most people don’t assign to the word warrior. In fact, Warrior II is not combative or confrontational. (Or, perhaps only with your own demons.)

So, I hope you all will join me on this day in Warrior II. Hit your pause button and prepare yourself to meditate, reflect and settle into your own Warrior II even from the chair. To celebrate, I know I’ll be doing a little yoga — I hope you’ll do the same.

 

No Comments
Categories : Awareness, Featured, Meditation, Poses

Breathing with a Red Light

Posted by Abby Lentz 
· June 15, 2021 
· No Comments

See your lungs as a pair of pitchers. Inhale bottom, middle to top. Exhale as pouring from the pitcher into a glass from top, middle to bottom.

I have a dear student has begun the process of stopping smoking.
It reminded me of the post so I thought for her I’d run it again.

Driving to class last night, I found myself at a long red light. A quick glance to my left, and I noticed that the other driver was taking this time to get her cigarette going. Watching her light up I was reminded as to my observations on smoking.

Now_voyager_3_2I was very fortunate — I grew up in a household with a smoker. My mother loved her Kool cigarettes. We kids, all 5, hated how dirty they were and how they smelled, not to mention they seemed to take her attention away from us. Even as we got older and smoking became “cool” for our age groups, none of us picked up the habit. (Of course, we all picked up the ice cream habit, but that would be for another entry.)

In her defense, my mother grew up in a time when everyone smoked. It was not only acceptable, but sexy. Who could forget Paul Henreid’s “Shall we have a cigarette on it?” proposal to Bette Davis at the end of Now Voyager? Smoking was reinforced everywhere back then, even by doctors.

Taking smoking apart, I believe that under the nicotine addiction, there’s deep belly breathing that’s so attractive. Read More →

No Comments
Categories : Awareness, Breath Work, Featured, Yoga Off the Mat

Food as a time machine

Posted by Abby Lentz 
· March 29, 2021 
· No Comments

This time of year I find that food turns into a time machine. As Easter quickly approaches I travel back to my childhood becoming 12 again.

Easter 1952 w/Nancy

Easter 1960 w/Nancy

A time when dying eggs was an all day project that lived on under your fingernails in crescent moons of red, blue and green. Clear waxed crayons would let you draw or write mystery messages that only appeared after dipping them into jars of warm dye.

Holidays were always my mother’s moments and no one did Easter as well as she did. Each kid had their part of the living or dining room where the Easter Bunny would hide the decorated eggs — the center prize being our very own basket.

A nest of shredded colored paper layered the woven bottom where jellybeans would jiggle down to be found just when you thought all had been eaten. A full array of yellow and pink Peeps, shoulder to shoulder with petite foil-wrapped chocolate marshmallow bunnies, surrounded a large hollow bunny stamped to look just like the rabbits on the pages of our fairy tales.

After all the eggs had been found, like clockwork, our Aunt Ethel’s package would appear. My Grandfather Briar’s sister was considered to be an “Old Maid” — never married, no children and not really liberated. Her father had left her inheritance in a trust fund that didn’t provide for her by the 1950s, which required her to work in her later years. Of course, as kids we thought that we were the luckiest ones around to have an aunt who worked at the candy counter in Wanamaker’s.

Aunt Ethel’s Easter eggs came carefully cushioned in layers of white tissue paper creased and folded smooth. To protect the script names, each egg was individually wrapped in clear cellophane gathered and twisted on top secured with a thin strand of real ribbon tied into a small bow. There would be no fighting about who got which egg since they were clearly marked as yours. Names in white surrounded by new growth green vines, each tipped with crafted candy flower buds in pastels of yellow, blue or pink. Inside the thick chocolate coat was a mystery flavor, hidden until mom would slice each egg carefully with a knife too sharp for a child to wield. Chocolate, vanilla crème, coconut, or sometimes even tiny chunks of candied fruit glued together with white sweetness, only to be revealed then.

Not a very good day-to-day cook, my mother would excel at Easter. Canned ham was spiked with whole cloves to hold up golden rings of pineapple — always packed in syrup back then, never in juice. Each empty center ready to be filled with a maraschino cherry tacked in place with the point of a toothpick. canned hamIf you helped in the kitchen, chances were good that you would be rewarded with a taste of the coveted red cherry juice, sipped straight out of the jar. Canned sweet potatoes lost their tin-taste under a thick layer of gooey toasted marshmallows. Green beans would bathe in real butter, not oleo, for the holiday table. Of course no dessert was necessary. The Easter bunny’s bounty left plenty of sweets for us to eat all day and into the night. Once all the dishes were done we turned on the TV to watch the same show, all together, at the same time.

So, it’s no wonder that I love Easter time and all its many tastes. That the simple sight of grocery shelves loaded with sugar and chocolate transport me to a different time. A time when I was young and all was possible. When I could run like the wind and read without glasses. With my mother feeling accomplished, smiling and gay, and we were a family if only for that day.

Peeps Car

 

 

No Comments
Categories : Awareness, Featured, Off the Mat, Surprises!, Travel

Yoga and Heart Health 

Posted by Abby Lentz 
· February 14, 2020 
· No Comments

Whenever you search “yoga for heart health,” over 300 million results pop up. Seems everyone agrees that yoga is good for your heart. Surgeons, medical doctors, and many cardiac hospitals all agree with people like me — simple yoga teachers who are not medically trained — that yoga improves your heart.

 

In fact, it seems everyone agrees that any yoga will be good for your heart. However, in reviewing the best of the health recommendations, what I’ve found is that yoga poses break down into three major categories: twists and folds, chest openers, and safe inversions.  All of these are a part of why yoga is so effective — they help you break out of your stress cycle, which can be a major contributor to heart disease.

 

If you have time to do a complete yoga session, be sure to warm up and cool down. On my YouTube Channel I help you with that using my Efficient Warm Up Series. Finishing with Savasana (Corpse Pose) while you use a meditative mind. If you don’t have enough time to do a complete session, you can gently sprinkle yoga into your daily life at home or in your office. If you don’t even have time for that, then just pause and take a few deep breaths.

 

Opportunities to twist are all around you. Twists help to cleanse and stimulate all the organs and soft tissues housed in the torso not just the heart. The trick to make twists effective is to move slowly and hold them deeply keeping your belly relaxed and your breath small. They can be done easily whenever you are sitting by grounding both feet, cross left hand to your right leg, and rotate to the right. Holding your hand to your leg is your Counter Point, the place of stabilization that helps you go deeper into the twist. Twist both sides.

 

Like twists, forward folds involve squeezing. Folds consist of bending so you are pressing your belly and chest into your legs. If you’re sitting, be sure you lift up out of your hips and low back before you place your torso on your lap. Note that these forward folds are different from doing ones to stretch your hamstrings. For hamstring stretches to evolve that require a Belly Well — a space you create by separating your legs to make room for your belly to fold into. Any of the belly-down poses — Cobra, Boat, or Locust, for example — will also create this press of your belly and chest.

Read More →

No Comments
Categories : Awareness, Breath Work, Heart Health, Poses, Uncategorized

Become a Food Anthropologist

Posted by Abby Lentz 
· November 14, 2018 
· No Comments

A travel expert on PBS advised that to really know a culture, you must eat their food. And he went on to eat dried bugs and stewed goat intestines. All the while I was thinking, YUCK — I’d have to be pretty darn hungry.

But upon reflection I realize how true that was. How much we find out about each other by looking at what we eat. Just watching this simple slide show you’ll discover a lot about me. You can see that I come from the land of oysters and crab — very specific East Coast seafood because I grew up in Southern Maryland. You’ll see the people I love and hang out with.

http://heavyweightyoga.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/11/Food-Photos-Slideshow-2-Mobile.m4v

I come from Daddy’s turkey sage dressing and holiday Jell-O salad we call Pink Stuff which I’ve been making long before my children were born and they’re both in their forties. And to be fair, I also come from my mother’s version of seafarer’s stew, which consists of 7 different cans opened, stirred together and heated in a single big pot. (FYI, cream of mushroom, cream of tomato, can of milk, pearl onions, potatoes, salmon and tuna.)

While we might like to think about food as fuel, it’s so much more than that. Food is so intrinsic to who we are and what we do and so necessary to our survival — but also part of celebrations — birthdays, anniversaries, promotions and just about anything we share with others, including losses.

So, this Thanksgiving while you’re thinking about what to eat — or not eat — think about where you’re from and what is essential to celebrating who you are. Become a food anthropologist that tells your story so you’ll know more about yourself and your attachment to the foods you eat. Only by knowing where we’ve been can we support where we’re going.

No Comments
Categories : Awareness, Featured, Heart Health, Off the Mat, Uncategorized, Yoga Off the Mat

Thanks for your memories

When I was in my early 40’s my older brother Bill came to visit me in Austin. We went to lunch with several of my women friends. Somehow over the course of the meal we got to talk about losing your virginity. It was a sweet memory for me, as I recalled a passionate escapade with my high school sweetheart. It was then much to my shock that Bill piped up that in fact he had been my first encounter when we were kids.

My immediate response was that he was full of shit. And then he relayed the story of luring me into a neighbor’s shed. A place we were forbidden to go. He went into a full accounting that ended with him throwing me out and slamming the shed door in my face. It was that one small detail about the door that sparked my memory and made me realize that in fact Bill was telling the truth.

You see, I do remember standing in front of that faded red door, feeling feelings I did not recognize. Often, I saw images of that door in my dreams. While I have no memory of what happened inside, I clearly remembered standing in front of that door with its red paint weathered and chipped. The hinges painted over with the same smear of red, rusted metal peeking through. It had happened to me. And since that was the only part I could remember I had to believe his story.

It seems for decades I had buried that part of me — buried that memory. Never told my mother or a teacher or a friend. Never told anyone I became involved with up to that point. I pushed it so deep inside I believed that it never happened. Even as a volunteer at the Austin Rape Crisis Center, I never thought of myself in terms of being a survivor. Yet there was this revelation in the middle of a Chinese restaurant with friends all around me — all of us shocked not only that it had happened, but at the casual, boastful way he told of my being raped.

Memories of events are hard to pin down. People often have different recollections of the same event. That doesn’t make one right and the other wrong. It can only be one’s own truth. This is why I’m so grateful to women who come forward with their truth, with their memories. I’m so sorry they had to go through these events, but am so grateful that they are able to put it into words and emotions — grateful that they have the courage to give voice to their memories of pain.

Next Page →

Categories

  • Awareness (28)
  • Bed top yoga (2)
  • Breath Work (11)
  • DVDs (3)
  • Featured (24)
  • Heart Health (6)
  • Media (4)
  • Media Coverage (15)
  • Meditation (3)
  • Off the Mat (15)
  • Pose Pairing (1)
  • Poses (9)
  • Sleep (1)
  • Surprises! (5)
  • Travel (5)
  • Uncategorized (7)
  • Yoga in the News (1)
  • Yoga Off the Mat (16)
  • Yoga Online (1)

Tags

360 Degree You athlete bedtop yoga benefits book breathing chat crying Dance emotions Energetic Swipe half frog HeavyWeight Yoga hip opener Journaling Livestream low back stretch marathon movements NBA numbers ornish pose pairing reclaim health Retreats roll-up skin cancer sleep Spurs tv Unplugged video weight gain well-being yoga at home
HeavyWeight Yoga®
Copyright © 2022 All Rights Reserved
iThemes Builder by iThemes
Powered by WordPress