But with yoga it seems to be the other way around. Last night I came home exhausted, and I told myself I did not want to do my little 10 minute set before bed.
But I did anyway. I couldn't help myself. One half of it was knowing how good the exercises make me feel. Another half of it was knowing how crappy I feel in the morning the few times I haven't done them. And yet another half of it was knowing how much better I'd sleep having done them.
I feel that I am compelled to practice. My body has found something that it likes, that it needs. And it makes it known when I think about forgoing a session.