The Yoga Moms...

Photo: http://scopeblog.stanford.edu

Early this fall I coined them, "The yoga moms." They're perennially beautiful, well groomed and happy. I see them every morning when I drop off my kids for school. Typically clad in black yoga pants and a baby tee, is it possible they're oblivious to how amazing their slim figures compliment each other collectively? I mean seriously, does skinny beget even more skinny?

On an ordinary school morning, I rush my kids into their classes, give hugs and kisses, then rush back home to start my workday. My mane is unkempt, I'm usually wearing sweatpants or old, faded jeans and a sweatshirt. Oversized sunglasses keep me from having to come face to face with a yoga mom who at 7:30 am is already fresh faced, donning mascara and a warm bronzer glow. I usually have zero makeup on and look completely washed out, or possibly have gooey remnants from the previous day's efforts.

The yoga moms all congregate outside in a group after the morning bell rings. They have coffee in hand and mysteriously have time to dally with the other moms before their ritual of hitting the gym. My first instinct is to mock them. My rationale begins with, "Of course you look amazing! You're a stay at home mom with no kids to look after during the day. Even if you sat on the couch and ate a box of doughnuts, you'd have enough time to work off the calories before school let out." But a yoga mom would never eat a doughnut... or any of the junk food I allow myself and justify as "fast, easy and necessary" because I simply don't have the time to eat healthy. Cop-out supreme!

So it dawns on me that I don't look like a yoga mom for a variety of reasons, namely because I don't make fitness or nutrition important in my life. Whether you're a working mom or not, you'll only accomplish goals in your life once you make them important. Finally, I get it. Now I have to make a plan, find the time and execute. I already envision the need to recruit professionals to get started. Though I wouldn't ordinarily contact trainers or nutritionists or join a gym, this is something I cannot successfully tackle with a workout DVD in the living room and a container of protein shakes. The thought of showing my jiggly-jaggly to a trainer pains me so, but how else can I create the element of accountability?

On many occasions I've mentally laughed off the yoga moms. Maybe they're obsessive with fitness and like to flaunt their super skinny selves to the rest of us. Good for them! While I have no intention of being part of their brood, making fun of them has caused me to examine my own bad habits and take action to become a better version of myself.