It’s a Sunday morning. You’ve finally mustered up the energy to get out of bed, fighting off the hangover every step toward the bathroom. You pull on your brightest pair of workout leggings, hoping the obnoxious color pattern wakes you up.

You scrape off your snow-covered car, drive to the gym, and finally get on the mat. It’s too early for an instructor-taught class, so you pop a yoga video into the DVD player.

You’ve just gotten centered in mountain pose, forgetting the stress of your work week and that time on Wednesday when you spilled coffee down the front of your white shirt.

And then the door opens.

Ah, the struggle of doing yoga at a public gym. If your public gym is anything like the one I use, there is a recreation room, which consists of anything from cycling, ab workouts and yoga. Every time someone needs a mat, free weights, jump rope or any other various workout gear, the door opens and slams shut.

So you tune it out. I mean, how many people could possibly be up this early on a Sunday?

The door proceeds to open and close 5 more times in the next 2 minutes. There is a guy 5 feet away from you grunting as he does army-grade sit ups. Two girls on the other side of the gym are laying on their mats gossiping about the hot guy in the other corner of the room doing jumping jacks.

Plus, nothing is more awkward than being in downward-facing dog when a group of people walk in to see your spandex stretched to the max against your ass.

You start to wonder whether you should’ve worn different underwear because you can almost definitely see panty lines in these pants, or whether you should be doing some squats instead of yoga because your butt isn’t looking especially great.

Suddenly that focus you worked so hard to gain is gone and all the energy you’ve been using to hold yourself in downward-facing dog is being used to restrain yourself from shouting at everyone to be quiet.

You finish the workout, despite the people blatantly staring at you rocking back and forth in happy baby pose. Your body feels great, but your mind is still as uneasy as it was when you walked through the door.

You leave the gym vowing to get a membership at an actual yoga studio. You spend all night comparing prices, decide your love for Chinese takeout is too great to cut costs, and return to the good old public gym the next morning.

Sound like any of you? Comment below!