My Old, Worn Out Yoga Mat

Published September 5, 2024

Today was a good day. It began with a morning yoga class. This particular class’s structure was holding poses for three minutes each instead of moving from one pose to another in rapid fashion. Today was: follow the teacher’s instructions, shift, adjust, and hold and hold and hold. Three minutes.

180 seconds doesn’t sound like much, but when a pose may or may not feel good, it can be a looooooong time.

“Try to stay in the present moment,” we were advised. “Don’t think about what you need to do after yoga class. Focus on the pose.”

While I was able to get into the pose, make my adjustments, and hold the pose (well…I held the poses as long as my body said yes), I found myself distracted. So I began to look at my yoga mat.

Actually, I have two mats. I use both of them now that I want more support. The top blue one is my first personal yoga mat ever. The second red one is much newer, highly recommended, and costly. Spending more than I ever thought I would for a yoga mat, it was to be a big step up for my practice.

I was told, “It’s a game-changer. You’ll love it. It’ll take you to the next level for sure. You’ll never go back to anything else.”

And, that is what I wanted: to up level my yoga. Now, about four years later, I can barely see it because it’s under my old, worn out, original yoga mat. The newer, “better” one didn’t work for me. I had a hard time sliding my feet on it. Sure, it kept my feet in place for holding poses, so it might’ve been useful during the 180 second holds today, but I kept it under my good, ol’ faithful yoga mat.

The next pose, pigeon pose, is one that requires nearly lying face down on the mat with one leg extended and one leg tucked under one’s belly. With my head angled downward, I found myself staring again at the 10+ year old mat with numerous not-quite-holes through it. They were more like divots as if on a golf course after a four-day tournament.

In those divots, I could see years of stretches, sense sweat sliding down and dropping from my nose, hear labored grunts, and feel my dog’s tail touching my legs while he walked under my downward dog poses.

In the scratches and little tears on my mat, I remembered doing yoga with my daughter outside in the spring sun after a long Michigan winter. The grass was so new and eager for growth that it was the perfect cushion for our mats.

Also, the old, blue mat brought back memories of doing yoga “with” my daughter when she was working in California. Because of the time difference, we could do yoga together in the morning by FaceTime before she went to work. One of us played a class on the TV. We’d watch, move into Warrior II poses, and pretty much literally enjoy the class together.

Being reflective – even if it is about a deteriorating yoga mat – isn’t new to me. As a writer, it comes naturally. I see far more in events and situations than most people. Yes, it can be an annoying trait to those who are literal.

“The person just chose mayonnaise for his burger, and there’s nothing more to it!” my husband would tell me.

My response, “But, from all the possible toppings, why mayo? And, why just mayo? It seems odd to only have one topping for one’s burger to me when a plethora of topping options exist.”

Oh yes, I could spend some serious time in that conversation.

So here I am gifted with a whole hour segmented into precious 180 second portions to ponder what this mat has meant to me, the memories held with it, and what future possibilities exist for it assuming I continue to engage in yoga practice. And, I will continue with yoga because