Tonight I cheated on my marathon. For yoga. It was a classic case of seeking out the warmth and comfort of an old friend. I should probably feel more guilty about this, but me and yoga go back a long way. I even call it “yogs” (pronounced ‘y-oh-gs’)- we’re that close.

I really did have every intention of doing my 7.5 km run today, but I should have known that it just wasn’t in the cards. You see, I started my day by going snowboarding (yup I live in the playground for grown-ups called Whistler), which was awesome except (and here’s where the whining begins), it wasn’t. For starters the wind had scoured a lot of the snow off of the mountain and second it was cold.* Even some of my guy friends were complaining about their fingers being cold, so it wasn’t just ‘girl cold,’ it was actually cold.   I was hanging with my friend Liz that I hadn’t seen in ages so we were toughing it out, but it wasn’t long before we threw in the towel. Not before consuming a beer and a cookie, which was my second indication that the run probably wasn’t going to happen.

I still hadn’t clued in when I got home though, because I proceeded to make a running playlist- for the next 3 hours. Unfortunately, thinking about running is not the same thing as actually running (sigh).

I ended up with the mother of all playlists (to be shared soon!), but found myself sitting on the couch, in my running clothes, but not running. [brace yourself for more whining]. I looked outside and noticed it was getting dark out. AND it was snowing. AND I was still kind of cold from earlier. AND there was a yoga class about to begin so…there you have it- I caved.

And damn it was soo good. It was a nice warm room and stretching the hamstrings and hips felt goood. I’m just going to chalk it up to a momentary lapse. Tomorrow is a new day.

*I should have known it was cold because my feline friend Mojo did ‘cold paws’ when I suggested he go outside to play with Bo this morning. (yup, Mojo’s best friend is named Bo, which would be super cute if it weren’t for the fact that Bo tends to beat the crap out of Mojo). Cold paws look like Mojo is trying to flick water from his paws but really are code for “brrrr, I’m not going out there. Are you crazy?! What I will do is have some tuna and sleep for the next 23 hours.”