When it comes to fitness and exercise, I like to try new things. If there’s a new workout, I’m generally game to give it a go. Except when it comes to Yoga.
I’ll admit I’ve been fairly close-minded about yoga in the past. And for good reason. When I was hugely pregnant with twins, I thought it would be a good idea to take prenatal yoga.
While the other moms with their tiny little baby bumps were hanging out in tree pose and other various pretzel like formations, I was trying to maintain some center of gravity with my 5 foot in circumference beast of a belly. After an hour of this torture we were told to ‘relax’ and ‘shut our minds off’ in order to ‘get in touch with our spirits. It wasn’t good.
I don’t shut my mind off. And when I’m told to do so, it only kicks up into high gear. I can’t handle it. The (and I apologize if I offend) ‘airy-fairy’ stuff makes me twitch.
And for nine years since that terrible experience, I’ve almost always been able to come up with some sort of excuse when been invited to try classes or tag along with a friend.
This avoidance technique has worked well for me up until now.
After a particularly wild whitewater rafting trip, the four of us sat in a circle on the floor and attempted to stretch out our sore muscles. And I say attempted because while Leanne and Kelly were doing all sorts of pretzel like maneuvers, and saying things like, “feel that? Just feel the stretch through your hip flexor.” I was saying things like, “Oh my, God. I can’t feel my toes.” And. “I don’t think the body is really supposed to bend like that.”
To which Leanne, in her backward bent dog like child warrior pose asked, “Elena, do you not stretch at ALL? It feels so good.”
Evidently I need to add some stretching to my workout regime. It’s not that I don’t stretch at all. I have been known to pull my heel up and swing my arms around while I’m waiting for swim club to start or my running partner to show up. But, and here’s my dirty little secret. I don’t stretch.
Ssh. Don’t tell anyone. But I don’t really stretch after a half marathon or a big event. I know, I know. It’s not good. I could hurt myself. I need to treat my body better. yada yada yada.
So, in an attempt to broaden my mind and treat my body better, I’m going to sign up for some yoga classes with a friend. I figure, I’ll need moral support for this. Plus, JM Randolph has assured me there is yoga out there that isn’t all about meditation, and becoming one with myself. But if it starts getting ‘airy fairy’ I’m outta there.
I might be able to handle this kinda of yoga.