The yogi kicked my ass

For various reasons, I have not been doing a tremendous amount of yoga this year.  Between class cancellations, sickness, timing, vacation, too many things on the agenda, or whatever; I have missed quite a few of my Monday night sessions.  Mondays are the most intense workouts of the week for me: 30-45 minutes of intense cardio followed up by an hour of intermediate yoga.  Needless to say, getting out of the habit is VERY easy to do.  Getting back into the routine – NOT so easy to do.

 

Yesterday, by the time I got into the studio, I felt wiped.  The cardio alone left me hot n’ sweaty – which is GOOD, but tiring.  My endless-supply-of-bounce-back just ain’t there anymore.  As the studio filled up, in walked the new instructor.  Not sure if he is temporary or permanent.  But one thing was a little unusual – he was a he.  Not that there is anything wrong with that.  Almost all of my instructors have been female.  The only exceptions have been my Wednesday night instructor John (our roomie), and the instructor of my old 1 ½ hour sessions, Juris.  Juris was a drill-sergeant!  You know the kind – if one person in the class fails a pose, the entire class has to hold it for longer.  GODS, he was tough.  But I gotta admit, I never looked or felt better in my life as when I took his classes.

 

This guy was… well… interesting.  Male yoga instructors almost always are.  Call it stereotyping, but many of them give off this androgynous vibe.  My gaydar just goes fuzzy.  I don’t know if it is because they can bend things that most guys don’t have, or if it is the amount of granola intake, or their ability to breathe through their hair.  In any case, these sensitive new age guys are just… well… unique.  And this one was no exception.  Right from the start, he talked to the class about the journey being an internal journey of introspection, etc., etc., etc.  “Oh lordie.  Please… not tonight.  No heightened-sensory mumbo-jumbo tonight.  Let’s just strike a pose, and vogue our way through the class, please.”  Fortunately, he didn’t spend too much time on philosophy before going into the routine.  So YEAH!  I got my wish! 

 

But then he said the words that I hate to hear, “We’re gonna start with abs.”  “Aw CRAPOLA!” I thought to myself.  “Can’t we go back to philosophy instead?”  Sometimes, it is my own damned fault, I guess.  He started off with some ab routines that I have never done before.  And we’ll just say that if I had any military secrets, I’d talk!  OUCH!  They hurt like a… like a… like a really hurtful thing. 

 

Escaping from the evilness that is ab-work, we began an odd set of sun salutations.  They “kinda” worked, but were a bit awkward.  I dunno… he seemed to know what he was doing, but the flow just… wasn’t.  By about halfway through the class, I just wasn’t sure about this guy.  Then we switched to some balancing poses and some warrior poses.  I had to suppress laughter every time the guy next to me, a newbie to yoga, would say just loud enough for me to hear, “Yah RIGHT!” or “No freaken’ way!” whenever the instructor challenged us to go to another level.  I don’t know if this is what coaxed me on, but whenever I heard my neighbor express his disbelief in a person’s ability to do X, I would do it.  Yes, I am a competitive person – but not with other people - with myself.  Doing better than another person really is not a fair competition.  Are we ever really, truly, equally matched in life?  Everyone’s brain is different.  Everyone’s body is different.  Everyone’s experience is different.  For one person to “win” and another to “lose,” truly isn’t a measure of equal to equal.  Some people will always have a natural edge, while others have a natural disadvantage.  The only TRUE competition that exists is a challenge that one makes with oneself.

 

Not all that long ago, I was that guy.  I was the one convinced that “NOBODY can do X.  It just isn’t possible for the ‘normal’ human body to do.”  More tragically, I was convinced that I could not do X – not ever.  And then slowly over time and practice, I learned that I could.  And it feels marvelous.  As part of our sun salutations, our instructor called for us to do a quick series of pushups.  The voice of my inner child wailed in fear.  “But, but, but I can’t DO pushups!  Snivel, snivel.”  As the fat kid in school, I couldn’t.  Not even a one.  But now, in this body, I can.  One, two, three, four, five, forward into cobra, back into downdog.  Back to plank.  Pushups… one, two three, four, five, etc.  I was doing it!  And I was doing it well!

 

Towards the end of the class, our instructor led us through something new – a transition from a crouched position into a pose known as bird of paradise.  I really don’t know how to describe the last one.  Suffice it to say, you are twisted into a pretzel, and then end up standing on one foot with the other leg up in the air – not an easy move.  As he took us through levels, most of the class stayed at level one, with a few people venturing into level two.  Most of the class laughed at the thought of standing and balancing into level three, as if it were possible.  I found myself, along with about two other people in a very packed class, doing it.  How the f$*%$ did THAT happen?  Not long ago, I was the cynic on the side looking at the one or two people in the class who could do weird and wild moves, who felt suddenly… inferior.  I didn’t resent the fact that he or she COULD do a move.  I resented the fact that I could NOT.  But somehow, someway… now I can.

 

By the time the class ended, I felt utterly exhausted.  Every muscle group had gotten a good workout.  I didn’t feel pain anywhere – just the residual muscle tingling that follows an intense amount of pushing oneself.  As we closed our eyes for the final relaxation, I felt like I had earned that time to relax and meditate.  So rarely in the hustle and bustle of the day do we really ever take time for ourselves.  Oh sure, we take care of what must be done – errands, cleaning, cooking, etc.  But do we take five minutes out of the day to simply close our eyes, breathe deeply, and look inside of ourselves? 

 

Namaste.