Yoga. Not for the easily amused...certainly not for the sleep-deprived either.
The only reason I belong to a gym nearby is so that I can go to LesMills Body Pump class. It is a surefire way to kick my own ass into shape in the most massochist, yet enjoyable way. I love every minute of it, and love the results even more. Occasionally, however, they eff up my game and change the class timeslot to sayyy, BodyBruise or BodyTorture or one of the other LesMills mutant babies. I decided to choose C.)none of the above and for the first time in my life, dive into the world of Yoga instead.
I head up the stairs, not sure what I'm in for, but ready and willing to try. It had been years since I'd slept or even had five minutes of peace, and since this always seemed like a dignified form of napping, it appeared to be a safe bet. I walk in to the Yoga room and immediately hit a wall of hot stanky air. Oh dear, this is a little crowded..I think. But it is too late, I am spotted by the instructor who clearly sees I'm reaching panic mode.
Softly, she says, "Welcome."
"First time here?"
"Welcome (yes, you said that). You'll need a mat, a block, a belt strap, and a blanket, then go and relax your mind before we get started."
"OK, thanks." Relax my mind HA! Lord knows I haven't relaxed since my last epidural. I shuffle over to the corner to get the items.
I sausage myself in between two senior citizens, thinking I'll surround myself with people that will not be able hold a pose any better than I will. There isn't a lot of room to maneuver but I manage to get my mat rolled out and ready. Ahh, yes, now to relax my mind.
I kick back on my mat, head resting on my blanket. Ahhh, this isn't so bad! Good choice today! I like the blanket, it's kind of wooly and pinchy but I like it. This mat is comfy, I should get one of these mats, I see them all of the time in TJ Maxx...I have to pee, I drank too much coffee..coffee. Then my mind starts racing. Coffee! Did I unplug the coffee pot? I think we need milk. When was that dentist appointment again? I have to mail the car payment today! But you didn't get stamps, idiot! I told you to get stamps yesterday and now look, you don't have stamps to.....
GONGGGGGGG....a soft Tibetan-like gong wakes me from my argument with my inner moron.
I look around...everyone is eyes forward, stonefaced, cool as cucumbers. I hate being a novice.
Master Jedi Yoga welcomes everyone with a soft voice and a cool nod...starts talking about us doing some energy building breathing called pranayama or something like that which I take to be Sanskrit for phlegm removal. Oh, and we are to try to constrict our throat when we breathe. All I can hear are horking sounds that trigger my gag reflex and I can't concentrate. What in the hell did I get myself into? I'm with a bunch of people who are literally clearing their throat, snorking and calling it breathing. I try to make these noises to go along with the group but fail miserably and of course and end up snorting instead like a pig, here comes the immature giggle. Please, not the inappropriate laugh..please not the inappropriate laugh. I compose myself. Whew. Close one. No one seemed to mind my nasal snort.
Everything is just perfect though, according to the Instructor.
"That's perfect. Beautiful. Yes. Again. More. Perfection. Wonderful. What beautiful breathing sounds."
GAG! How much longer do I have to pretend that I breathe like a Pug? More importantly, how much longer are people going to be exhaling dog breath into this tiny sauna of a studio? I'm starting to sweat and all I've done so far is hyperventilate. Hey, this isn't too bad of a workout!
Finally, it's pose time. We do a bunch of moves that I am uncomfortable doing, mostly because the older gentleman (one of the only ones in the class..akward!) behind me has a clear visual of my asscrack. Not to mention, it is hot as hell in here and I am certain it looks like I peed myself from buttsweat. I'm wondering if this would be a convenient time to Namaste- my -way out of this class?
But I perservere...and then my worst fear happens. Tooot. Then another. Tooooot. Yes...but it wasn't me. If you've been to a Yoga class then you've probably experienced it, and being that many of the ladies in this class are much much much older, and the prune juice starts to kick in, there are certainly more to come. I try...I try so hard to stifle my giggle, but looking around and seeing that no one was going to even acknowledge the toot made me laugh harder. (Is this an unwritten understanding of Yoga, that all gasses are welcome yet not frowned upon or acknowledged? Have women finally found a safe place to toot without being judged? And if so, who let the old guy in this class? He knows the secret now, he must be erased!)
At this point, my stomach is bouncing up and down from keeping it in, and I now look like I am having a seizure. I compose myself after a few minutes as I try to think of serious, non- funny things, but clearly, I am way too immature for yoga.
|What am I now, 12 years old and can't handle someone farting without cracking up?|
Next, with guidance from Master Yogi, we lie down on our mat, close our eyes and cover ourselves with our blankies. This is heaven. Please God, don't let this class end. The Instructor is talking about breathing to achieve peace and a stability of mind...chatter chatter...whisper whisper... ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ. I am out cold.
Well this is akward isn't it?
I feel a gentle rocking back and forth of my arm and am startled out of sleep by her face uncomfortably close to mine.
"Oh!" I jump.
"Namaste." she says. "You were sound asleep, ever so peaceful, ever so beautiful."
I wipe the drool off of my chin and feel my hot cheeks burn with embarrassment.
"I am SO sorry!" I said. "It's been so long since I've had any peace and quiet I think my body just shut down!"
"Of course, you have to remember to take time to breathe, live, and find inner peace. I admire the way you just let yourself go into such a restful state," she added.
I look around and almost everyone is gone. Those who linger, stare at me wildly. I gather my things and try to make my way out of the room in my groggy stupor.
I've never gone back to Yoga, and I am certain I would again if I wasn't in fear of falling into a coma while there. Maybe I'll try again when menopause eventually robs me of my sleep and I am deprived once again - but we'll see. I hope I will have matured a little by then...but then again, maybe not.