I know getting to the mat isn’t easy. But, it is possible – even in the face of some obstacles! This post is part of a series where real readers share their yoga stories with you. I’m thrilled to welcome Katie today, and I’m so grateful she was willing to share her story with you!

Katie Gruetzner is a desert girl transplanted to the Oklahoma prairie, where she lives with her Darling Devoted Husband, two dogs, a rabbit. They’re anticipating the birth of their first child in November 2012. Katie writes about a little bit of everything at Canon in Deed and about real food cooking for real life at Reality Chef.

By: Katie Gruetzner

The stillness of the early morning. A refreshing hour spent in a roomy, calm space. Flowing smoothly through an intricate and varied series of poses as grey dawn brightens the world outside my big bay window. Beginning my day strong, centered, and at peace, ready to face whatever the day may bring.

Well, that’s the theory, anyway. Yes, I am one of those people, the ones who bounce out of bed at five in the morning to faithfully(ish) practice yoga before the rest of the household awakes.

Or I was, until pregnancy exhaustion and a fainting form of morning sickness declared that I wouldn’t be getting out of bed a second sooner than absolutely required to make it to work on time.

But even when I was one of those people, reality rarely matched the idyllic ideal I planned.

Even if I actually bounce out of bed on the first alarm at five, by the time I let the dogs out and then in, have some sort of snack to stave off the fainting feelings I got even before they were amplified by pregnancy, rearrange the furniture and roll out the mat, then it’s at least 5:30 before I start. So I only have a half hour or forty-five minutes rather than a full hour.

Instead of a spacious room dedicated to practice, I have just enough space for my mat between the couch and the television, if I shove the coffee table across the room first.

Instead of an intricate and varied routine, I have one DVD with a thirty-minute practice that I do every day (there’s a twenty-minute “low energy” routine I use when I’m menstruating). It gets boring. But that early in the morning, I don’t have the brain function to branch out from a DVD’s detailed instructions and timing, and I don’t have the time to jump around to different poses on my other, more comprehensive DVD.

Plus, messing with the remote control really ruins that yoga mood.

Assuming I remember to open the curtains on that glorious big bay window (the one that leaks every time it rains), much of the year it’s still dark even by 6:15 when I finish. I am saluting a sun I’ll have to take on faith for another hour.

And instead of the stillness of the early morning, I have two clingy dogs, both convinced that if a human is awake, it must be breakfast time. We have a strict never-before-six (a.m. or p.m.) rule for feeding the dogs in our house. Feed them at 5:30 once and before you know it they’re waking you up at three in the morning absolutely starving to DEATH because, hey guys! it’s breakfast time!

The dogs, a goofy black lab and a nervous beagle, start out snoozing on the couch, one eye open to watch for any sudden moves toward the kitchen. But as the minutes creep on, they slither off the couch onto the floor. Every time I look up, they’re closer to the mat.

Floor poses just finish them off. They flip out with excitement that I’m down on their level. The lab tries to knock me out of bridge pose with his cuddles. The beagle licks every inch of skin she can reach. By the time I’m in Savasana, trying to pray and ask for wisdom for the coming day, I have two dogs lying on top of me, licking and wagging and just so so so excited about either getting to cuddle with me or their impending breakfast–I’m not really sure which.

So I give up on seeking peace on the mat, instead loving my dogs and giving them some of the attention they can never get enough of. If I remember, I say a quick prayer while I measure their food instead.

Maybe it wasn’t ideal, this yoga practice of mine, but it still made a difference to my physical, mental, and emotional health. It’s on hold for this season of life, but that just means I need to find a new way to work it into my schedule (I’m thinking Jennifer’s virtual yoga classes on weekends to start with). And I’ll need to find yet another new way once this baby comes and as it grows.

My yoga practice will never be ideal. But it changes and grows with me. And though my practice helps me love and care for myself, my dogs–and, come November, my baby–it also helps me remember that I need to love and care for others, too.

Katie gets major endurance points in my book! Let’s be honest, it is hard to persevere when there is just one obstacle, let alone a series of them! Thanks for the inspiration this morning Katie!

Do you practice yoga outside of a public class? I’d love to hear about it! Whether it’s a formal practice where you roll out your mat or just a few poses you squeeze in at the office, I would love to feature your story here at Every Breath I Take. 

I’m looking for a guest posts to run periodically in the Yoga section from real people who find a way to practice yoga outside of a formal yoga class. I want readers to hear that it’s possible and beneficial – from someone other than a yoga teacher like myself. 

It doesn’t have to be long, just a few paragraphs about what your “home” (or office or grocery store or hotel, etc.) practice looks like. Please send guest post submissions to jennifer@everybreathitake.com. (If you have a blog or a website, include it so I can link to it in your guest post!)

This article has 2 comments

  1. Joye Reply

    We all have our idea about what we want our practice to look like. I love hearing about others’ real life practices. I also have a dog who loves to lay underneath me when I’m in downward dog!

  2. Katie Reply

    They just seem to assume that the only possible reason you would be on the floor is to play with them…which admittedly other than yoga is pretty much true. ^_^

    Thank you for sharing your space, Jennifer!

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