Session # 2
– The Gumby Hour
The second 60-minute session (yes, I was still
watching the clock) was perfect for a group of limber, bendable yogis was
looking for. Everyone in class was as
flexible and limp as a strand of spaghetti; I was no exception. There was only one problem: I was the only
strand of spaghetti who didn’t get to spend 12 minutes submerged in a pot of
boiling water before class.
The non-stop regimen of bend this, bend that,
put-your-left-hand-on-the-yellow- circle-and-your-right-foot-on-the-blue took
its toll. At some point during the
assault the instructor dropped a block on my mat as I was sweating profusely
trying to touch the back of my head with one of my ankles. (Apparently the block—hard foam about the
size of a brick--is used in yoga for practitioners to compensate for any
physical limitations they may have. I
wouldn’t know, as my pride wouldn’t let me stoop to such desperate
measures.) A couple of minutes later the
instructor passed by my mat again and nudged the block with her foot up against
my side. However, I refused to admit
defeat and continued trying to wrap my right leg over my left shoulder without
that damn block. It wasn’t long before
she made a third pass by my mat, leaned over and whispered in my ear: ‘Are you
hurt?’ ‘No,’ I replied. I lied.
I would like to add that somehow, some way I also survived, blocks be
damned.
Session # 3
– The Wallenda Hour
All that was required for the third 60-minute drill
was some semblance of balance. Therein
lies the first problem: When I was born and fell out of the Balance Tree I
managed to miss every single branch on the way down. The second problem was that the balance
portion of the program immediately followed 20 minutes of bending and
stretching that pretty much sucked every ounce of energy out of both legs. So when the instructor had us on our feet the
final 40 minutes of the evening—and by ‘feet’ I actually mean ‘one foot at a
time’—things got ugly. As you may
remember I mentioned I had the good foresight at the very first session two
weeks ago to place my mat next to the wall.
Tonight that decision paid huge dividends. If not for the wall, I would have spent the
last 40 minutes on my ass. (I wasn’t
kidding when I said I missed every single branch.) I heard the man on the mat next to me being told
by his wife the trick to maintaining balance was to focus your eyes on a
specific spot on the wall. Let me be the
first to say simply placing my left hand on a specific spot on the wall proved
to be a viable and simpler alternative.
Interestingly enough, the next morning in my office I
tried several of the balance poses I couldn’t do during yoga class. I did all of them. Damn near flawlessly, if I do so say so
myself. Game on: Bring on next week!
Session # 4
– Next Week: The Grand Finale
Three inches of snow fell in the Atlanta area
today. In other words, Atlanta came to a
standstill. Yoga class wasn’t immune to
the standstill, evidenced by this Email I received from the instructor five
hours before class:
Greetings,
Yogi:
Due to the
snow and the closing of the Kedron Facility we will not have practice
tonight. My apologies to your hamstrings
(she remembered!) as they were on our agenda tonight!
Tonight was
to have been the last class of our January session.
February
enrollment is open. Enjoy a few sun salutations
as you watch the snow fall. Stay warm
and safe!
Namaste,
Shelly
February’s yoga class will have to go on without
me. I’ll keep doing my yoga, but I’ll do
so in the privacy and safety of my living room.
That way the next time Atlanta is hit with three
inches of snow, this particular yogi will be keeping his Namaste alive.
Whatever that means.
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