4 Reasons Why I DO NOT Do Yoga (And You Shouldn’t Either)

This long-haired dude wearing a drug rug romper came into my gym the other day. While he was vaping with one hand and spinning his fidget spinner with the other, he told me how me and every other MMA fighter should “Totally do yoga bro”. I don’t know if it was his blonde dreads or his clear lack of experience and credibility that made me not want to take his advice, but the thing is he wasn’t the first person to tell me to do yoga. So lets clear the record once and for all why I don’t do yoga, and never will.










  1. I don’t want to be flexible.

Flexible is another word for compromise, and that is something I don’t do. Not with Yogi’s, not with anybody. Stand for something or you’ll fall for anything. As long as I’ve got enough range of motion to punch, kick, choke, and open the door to my orthopedic surgeon, I don’t need to be folding myself into a godamn pretzel to impress people who don’t eat gluten. I cannot think of one single reason why I need to be able to touch my toes. Flexibility is overrated.






2. I don’t care about my joints

Last time I cared about a joint, it was during a skid row concert at the Toledo sports arena. No woman ever looked twice at a man because of how much synovial fluid he was packin. “wow I wish I had Jim’s elbow dexterity” said no man ever. Unless taking care of my joints is gonna put a zero turn mower in my garage and teach my dog how to make hamburger helper and change the channel, quite frankly I don’t care. If I cared about my body I wouldn’t get punched in the head for a living. The clicking and popping when i move reminds me that I’m alive, and my elbows are more than sturdy enough to rub shampoo in my eyes in the morning to brace myself for the pain that is life.







3. Mental clarity is for weak people

Yogi’s claim that paying 20$ to stretch and hum and fart for an hour puts them in some kind of “zen” place where their brain endorphins make them feel all fuzzy inside. But who wants that? I’ll tell you who: Entitled, crybaby snowflake millennial people. I like my mind loud and chaotic and busy and anxious, because that’s the real world. It’s an arduous existence filled with pent-up feelings and slow internet and people chewing with their mouth open and leaving your windows down when it rains. I’m not putting on spandex pants to drift off in to fantasy land for a few hours and feel like life is anything but an endless feedback loop or instant gratification and perpetual despair. Because I’m an adult in the real world. You should join us.






4. I don’t need to control my breath.

One of the main selling points of this hippy dippy sorcery called yoga is AOB or awareness of breath. Yoga wizards like George Mumford claim that finding the space in between breaths is a form of “cognitive behavioral therapy” or something like that, and can totally rewire your brain. Last time I checked I have been breathing since I was born, and if I stopped I would die. Next thing you know these people are going to want to teach you how to blink. If you want to feel better, take xanax like the rest of us. Because big pharma clearly wants whats best for everyone.










If you haven’t picked up on this by now, this article is 110% satire. Despite the stereotypes that sometimes surround yoga, it’s an excellent way to take care of your body regardless of if you’re a weekend warrior looking to extend your life a little or a seasoned fighter looking to add a decade to your competitive career. If you’re the ladder like me, yoga is worth checking into (here’s a website that will show you yoga studios near you). You don’t have to wear yoga pants, you don’t have to stop eating gluten, all you have to do is make the decision that you’re going to treat your body better. The people too macho to do Yoga are the same dudes who refuse to get a prostate exam and die on the toilet when they’re 45. All the jokes aside, ponder this: You only get one body. Just one. You blow your ACL or slip a disk in your back, it’s bad news. You’ll never be the same, trust me on this. So take care of your meatsuit, and try a Yoga class. If you’re a fighter like me check out this little at home sesh you can do!



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