I took my first yoga class yesterday, and one of the first things I learned is: Planking is harder than it looks. Well, technically, that’s the second thing I learned. The REAL first thing I learned is that any residual gas bubbles in your body will scream towards the nearest orifice in a thundering exit with the first genuine bend or stretch.
Thank heavens it was a small class in a large, well-ventilated venue.
My purpose for taking yoga is multidimensional, mainly to make my daily wearing of yoga pants at least appear legitimate…but more importantly, as I near the half-century age mark, I detest what age, and that bastard gravity, have been doing to my body when I wasn’t paying attention. Those F*%#ers.
And then Dawn came breaking. Dawn, the yoga instructor, helped me to break free from my comfort zone and get an entertainingly excruciating extension out of my muscles, joints, and digestive tract…
…and also my body and soul.
Too much seriousness has invaded my world lately, and I needed to be able to step back, move into something different, and shift my perspective. I only wish I could shift my boobs as easily…they’re never going to let me get my knees to my chin. Yes, I can laugh about it…now…through my cleavage.
So, I’m going back tonight, and then will be in weekly attendance to bring back my bendy.
Here are a couple of visual aids for you:
It’s too easy to forget that in order to find balance, you have to know that you are out of balance to begin with. Face planting on a yoga mat is an effective, if not subtle, hint.
In the meantime, my yoga pants are now legit, I’m stocking up on air fresheners, and there’s industrial sized barrel of ibuprofen waiting in the wings just in case.