Recently, I found myself on the floor of a well-appointed outdoor yoga studio in a trendy neighborhood of Los Angeles, panting as I contorted myself into what seemed like the hundredth in a series of chaturangas that wouldnt end. Everything ached, my face was bright red, and sweat dripped off my forehead onto the spare mat Id borrowed from my friend. Instead of losing myself in the act of physical movement, I was sharply aware of the seconds ticking by, wondering how many minutes it would take before the classand my distinct sensation of failurewould be over.

Theres nothing inherently wrong with sweating in a yoga class, although Ive chosen to move on from the timeworn if you dont sweat, its not exercise maxim. (Low-impact workouts are good for you!) The thing was, I was caught off-guard. That yoga class was my first in-person class since roughly November of 2019; Id gone to in-person yoga classes around Brooklyn fairly regularly in the Before Times, but the pandemic put an end to that. When the idea of in-person group exercise became feasible again, I still didnt want to do itby then, I was living in Austin, Texas, where cases were still frequently rising, and it never really seemed like a good time for me to begin sweating indoors with a bunch of other people again.

Over the past three years, Ive gotten used to doing yoga at home my own way, which tends to mean I strip down (why bother with a pinch-y sports bra or constricting yoga pants when its just me?), throw on a video (always the same one: Beginners Yoga with Adriene), shake out my mat (or, in a pinch, a towel) and work my way through the twenty-minute sequence with relative ease. My arms still tend to shake in downward dog, and I cant always stretch as fluidly as I want to, but even someone as physically self-critical as I am can see how much more comfortable Ive gotten with this yoga routine over the years.

Doing the at-home Yoga with Adriene video once or twice a week for so longat home, naked, often a little stoned, in hotel rooms and Airbnbs, alone and on trips with friends, to stretch after a long hike or to inject a little movement into an otherwise still dayhas, without my noticing, caused me to completely rewrite my relationship with yoga. When I went to classes before the pandemic, I was turned outward, constantly comparing my own form to those of the people around me; now, I think of yoga as something more personal, something I do to stretch the muscles in my legs and breathe a little deeper and remind myself that I have a body (which, as someone who lives with binge eating disorder, is something I tend to need reminding of now and again).

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My First In-Person Yoga Class Since 2019 Was AwfulAnd Maybe Thats Okay - Vogue