Dear Patrick… I have a golf ball stuck in my calf…

Dear Patrick,

I have a golf ball stuck in my calf. Not just any golf ball either. My calf is so twisted and knotted right now that it feels like Tiger Woods himself drove one of his winning golf balls going a gagillion miles an hour into my left calf and now it´s stuck there, on me,  in Spain.

Needless to say sign me up for your biggest, baddest, I totally dig humming and meditating at all hours of the day yoga packages. When I get home I am going to need some serious yoga to recoop from this trip. Besides my calf my right hip feels like it is trying to run away from my pelvic bone. I don´t get it. No one ever tells you about all the pain that goes with backpacking. I mean I feel like I should have been conditioning for this type of thing. I feel like I showed up for the Iron man race wearing a mini skirt and high heels. (Actually I´ll have you know that my Steve Madden, ballet slippper with the leapord print are the most comfortable shoes I brought. All the hardcore backpackers who wear Teva sandals, sleep in campsites and take showers once a week say I look like Barbie´s kid sister Bridget ATTEMPTS to go backpacking. Whatever.)

Anyways, thank goodness I took your classes. I don´t know what I would do if I wasn´t for your swan dive down, downward dog, cobra and tree pose combintation. I do it every morning before I go out. It has totally relaxed me and helped me to chill my body out.  You are wonderful!

Namaste!

 Irvina