How the First Year of Teaching is like Pigeon Pose in Yoga

They both suck.

Okay, I'll be a little bit more specific and articulate.  I thought about this while in pigeon today during yoga, one of my methods of coping with my hatred for this pose.  In case you didn't know what pigeon is, see below (I chose this for the randomness of an Asian lady in legwarmers doing yoga in her house and posting pictures on the internet).

1) They both suck (this must be said).  When you think about them in theory, these two seem like a good idea.  I know some of you are looking at the picture thinking "Come on!  I love that stretch!" in the same way a lot of people think of teaching- "Come on!  It's just hanging out with a bunch of kids all day!"  But in reality, it plays out differently.  Much differently.  After a minute and a half of pigeon (or teaching), you begin to think "Alright, this is starting to get kind of hard.  Can I get out of it already?"  And then when you're still doing it five minutes later, it becomes pure torture.

2)  They get easier with time.  Bullet number one is talking more about the FIRST time you teach or the FIRST time you do pigeon.  Admittedly, it does get less difficult as you become accustomed to it.  Or maybe you just get better at tuning out the difficulties.

3)  Just when you think they're easier, they're not.  It sucks again.  In teaching, just as you think it's getting better, you realize there's something more you can do.  There are more resources, more testing, more laminating, more everything.  In pigeon, just as you think it's getting better, your yoga instructor comes by and rips your hip out of its socket, making it feel like every tendon in your body is going to snap like a cut rubber band.

4) The pain is somehow rewarding.  No matter how much I want to snipe down my instructor after shoving my body further into the personal hell that pigeon is, I come out of it (very, very slowly I might add) and feel better.  Even though seconds before I was ready to scream "NOOOOO", my body (for some reason) thanks me after.  For teaching, as much as you complain and cry and wish the work would end, there are always those moments (usually in the calm of a three day weekend or after the rare "good day") where you appreciate all the miserable work you put into it.