What I learned when I refused to give up my most challenging yoga pose

Since I started practicing yoga five years ago, I’ve noticed that there are countless poses that I find challenging, especially those that target my sore, tight hamstrings. On the other hand, the ones I’ve always gravitated toward are the ones that require generous foot and ankle stretches. Squat? Let’s go. Lightning strike? I’m all in. Reclining hero? I’m ready to relax.

That is, until I met the piece of one foot that humbled me: Toe squat.

The first time I tried Toe Squat was during an online yin yoga class. The instructor leaned back on his heels in what I at first thought was Thunderbolt (Vajrasana), but unlike that classic pose, his toes were curled under him so that his weight was on the balls of his feet and toes. He set a timer for three minutes and warned that this might be uncomfortable. At the time, I was relatively new to yoga and didn’t think of this warning as I tried to echo his point.

My immediate reaction once I got into the pose? “OUCH.” The bottoms of my feet ached, from my toes to my heels. After a few breaths the pain escalated to a burn. To ease the feeling, I leaned forward and rested my arms on the seat of my couch. “Time must be almost up,” I coached myself. “Just a little while.”

When I was sure my toes were going to break off, I watched the video: it was only 20 seconds. I quit shortly afterwards.

Since my ego was bruised, I internally called the pose “The Toe Breaker.” That was impossible, I decided, and I hoped I would never encounter it again. However, this dream was promptly dashed when I explored more online yoga classes. Call it the Baader-Meinhof phenomenonbut now that I knew (and hated) Toe Squat, it suddenly seemed everywhere.

Since I felt like I had no control over when Toe Squat appeared, I had to decide how I wanted to appear. I actually wanted to skip it. And let’s face it, since I practiced at home, no one would know I was avoiding Toe Squat except my cat (and he wouldn’t tell).

Still, I couldn’t bring myself to avoid it completely. For me it was based on principles. I have always hated taking on challenges and for that reason I have a hard time walking away from them. I had played sports all my life, so I was familiar with the cliché “No pain, no gain” that adorned the posters hanging on the walls of my high school gym. Practicing Toe Squat felt like it could use its own yoga version of this phrase — perhaps, “No discomfort, no growth.” I wouldn’t let this pose the best of me.

Instead of skipping Toe Squat the next time it was cued, I gritted my teeth and held the pose for as long as I could. Over time, the real game-changer was my mental approach. Instead of counting down the seconds until I could get out of the Toe Squat, I instead counted the breaths: inhaling for four seconds and exhaling for eight seconds, over and over again. Slowly, 30 seconds started to feel manageable. Then 40. And 50. Sometimes I made it a whole minute. Of course, it was tempting to lie down on the floor and cry for a moment, but my discomfort quickly disappeared as soon as I came out of the pose. Yes, I pushed myself, but not too far. And that led to results that I could never have anticipated.

After a few months of consistent practice, the health of my feet seemed to transform. I had struggled with high arches for decades: I wore arch supports, bought supportive shoes, and looked for foot stretches that would ease the pain. Not much helped until Toe Squat. My feet stopped hurting when I forgot to wear my insoles. I hadn’t changed anything else in my life, so I had to (reluctantly) give credit where credit is due: Toe Squat is challenging on the mat, but it alleviated so much of the discomfort I was experiencing off the mat.

It’s been a few years since I first encountered Toe Squat and I won’t lie: it’s still not exactly comfortable. But I always practice it when a teacher tells me to. Knowing when to lean into difficulties is just as important as knowing when to stop, both for safety and personal development. For me, Toe Squat is a reminder of the benefits of leaning forward when the time is right, and a lesson in listening to my body when it says, “Don’t give up yet.”