Monday, January 14, 2008

Getting In Touch With Yourself

It's new year's resolution time and people are flocking to the gym en masse, including yours truly. After five years away, I went back to my first yoga class today. The class was packed with old timers who could bend like Gumby, new timers who couldn't yet sit cross legged, and sometimers like myself. It was so full, in fact that it was hard to find a place to put your mat that wasn't on top of someone else. I headed for the back of the room where I could see what everyone else was doing and was less likely to embarrass myself, but before I could drop my mat (and I'm pretty adroit at dropping things) the back was standing room only. I scrambled for what I thought was a safe-ish spot in the middle, and realized too late that I had parked myself directly behind the instructor. I frantically looked around, but there was nowhere to go. I was stuck.

About five seconds after the lights dimmed and the obligatory enya started, I found out that I had not only landed myself in the hot seat, but had squeezed in next to a heavy breather. Whereas the rest of the class warmed up by slowly inhaling and exhaling, this woman inhaled and exhaled. In fact, while we breathed, she moaned. I figured she was just bringing herself into the moment and that she would calm down after a few breathes, but I was wrong. She was just warming up.

A few times I had to look over and make sure it was still yoga she was doing over there (and that that yoga was solo). "In," said the instructor, "and out." "OOOOOOOHHHHHH," moaned the woman next to me. The extent to which she was getting in touch with herself made it hard for me to concentrate as I continued to glance over my shoulder to see what it was that I (and the rest of the class) was missing--we couldn't possibly be doing the same yoga. It got so bad that at one point her enthusiastic exhale caused me to fall out of eagle pose, which was awkward at best.

She finally climaxed by standing on her head for the last five minutes of class when we were supposed to be relaxing with our eyes closed in a position that was the most comfortable to us. When at last she came back to earth, she let out a final moan that rocked the house. Although she sounded absurd, I was a little jealous. I wish I knew how to touch my chakras like that...

Just-Barely in touch with myself,
Amy


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Just Barely the youngest's preschool class is practicing yoga, too. They're using a cute book called My Daddy Is a Pretzel: Yoga for Parents and Kids

If you have kids, or just enjoy acting like one, you should check it out!


2 comments:

  1. Ahem. Given your title, I have a rather provacative song from I think the early 90s running through my head. Nicely played.

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  2. Apparently, she is master of her domain. As long as no one drops crayons in your shorts I'm sure you'll make it through the next yoga class just fine...just get there early.

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