I'm sure you will agree with me when I say that yoga is absolutely marvelous. Okay, I wouldn't bet my life on it, or even $10, especially if there are a lot of people reading this; that could get expensive. But really, how can you not agree?
I mean, yoga has all these amazing health benefits. Your flexibility increases, sure, and your posture improves, who didn't know that, but I read on the internet (so it must be true, right?) that people who practice yoga also can enjoy a lower heart rate, increased dexterity and breath-holding (certainly an important skill), and improved excretory functions. Wow. I don't really want to think about that.
I have also heard (and why wouldn't I believe it; I have no evidence to the contrary. I think) that yoga improves memory, attention, and memory. I mean learning efficiency. And the added flexibility means that if you drop your cell phone while you're driving, you can reach under the seat to get it while still keeping an eye on the road! Who wouldn't like improved automotive safety?
Benefits for your sex life weren't mentioned specifically in the article I read, but I'm pretty sure the author was hinting at it - what else could 'self-actualization', 'social skills' and 'flicker fusion frequency' mean?
Here's the really cool part - people who practice yoga get a special name! Not like the special name your siblings gave you when you were six, either (you know I'm talking to you, peewee and scooter.) If you go to step class, they call you a 'participant' or maybe 'clumsy.' If you go to cycling class, you're a 'cyclist' or 'that dork in funny pants.' But if you go to yoga class, you are a 'yogi' (not like the bear, he's an idiot) or 'yogini'.
Yoga wear is pretty fun, too. Who hasn't browsed that section of the sporting goods store, longing for an excuse to wear those groovy low-rise pants or cute little tanks? I know they look merely decorative, but I can assure you they are quite functional. Don't believe me? Wait until you try your first downward dog in a baggy t shirt, and end up showing the entire class just how old your sports bra is. Or, try a child's pose in shorts that don't have as much spandex as you thought. Unless you enjoy the fresh air coming in through that split seam, cooling your backside, you'll be shopping for stretchy yet clingy yoga clothes the very next day.
Of course, it's not all beer and skittles at yoga class. In fact, there's rarely even beer. You have to work pretty hard to get into some of the poses, and even harder to get out of them. You have to learn a new language, with words like 'chaturanga', 'namaste', or 'firefly.' Sure, you've heard the word 'firefly' before, but in this context it refers to a pose I won't be accomplishing in this lifetime. I think I'd be better off with 'pigeon' or 'cat' or 'couch potato' (which is, I believe, strictly an American pose.) Anyway, you'd better pay attention or you'll end up doing a boat when everyone else is in eagle - a huge yoga faux pas which will cause everyone else to snicker at you (quietly of course.)
Along with buying new clothes and learning new words and poses, you'll find yourself growing in other ways, too. For instance, it won't take many sessions of yoga before you find yourself taking any anti-flatulence measures necessary to ensure that your corner of the room, at least, is quiet. And the first time you head to the window for 'sun salutations' while everyone else is standing, reaching, folding, and turning into animals, will be the last. Can you say 'Google yoga poses'? Can you say it three times, fast? How about if you've been drinking?
Having given a lot of thought and considerable internet research to the ins and outs of yoga, I thought I was prepared to attend my first class. I made sure someone was home with the kids, my chores were done, and I had on reasonably stretchy clothes. Unfortunately, I was running a little behind, and I didn't want to be late, so the entire drive to class was a nightmarish trek full of tension, traffic, speeding, requiring my cursing heartily at any driver who got in my way. I arrived at class sweaty and wild-eyed, and it took the instructor some time to calm me down. I staggered into class and took a spot in the back with my sticky mat, trying to slow my breathing. I was there, I was on time, and I was in the back. All was well.
And then class began, and with it, an annoying internal monologue that I simply could not shut off. "Hey! I'm actually doing yoga! Yoga is cool! Am I a yogini now? Maybe I should not wear such a baggy t shirt to yoga! What if I fall over when I am in the one-handed, drag the t-shirt off your face and back down to your stomach where it belongs, why didn't I buy a tank, downward dog pose? Is the blood rushing to everyone else's head too? How straight is my leg? How long will we be upside down? Does this pose make my butt look big? Wow! I'm actually in a yoga class! What was that noise?" It just goes on and on and on. Even the gentle, relaxing, not-meant-to-be-noticed background music distracts me. "What nice, peaceful music. I think I hear birds chirping. Are the birds outside, or on the CD? Oh! Did I just hear a monkey? That was definitely not outside, unless someone who lives nearby had a pet monkey who escaped, in which case we should go out and find it, but what if it bites?"
Despite the vexing monologue, I went to several more yoga classes. I really enjoyed them, so much so that I went even when I was injured. The teacher was very understanding when I told her I couldn't do the bouncing flamingo because of a nose-picking injury, or would be skipping the kneeling marmoset due to some residual soreness from tripping over the dog.
That's why it was so puzzling to me when I didn't go for several months. My busy schedule, coupled with inherent laziness (apparently yoga does not make that go away, although it will cure warts, irritability and whooping cough) caused me to miss quite a few classes. Of course, when I ran into the instructor at the gym (which I did, a lot, because we both work there) I felt compelled to make excuses for my absence: "Oh! Hi! Looks like you're about to start yoga! And I'm here, in exercise clothes! But I'm not coming to class! But I really, really, love yoga, and I love your class! I'm just not coming to it today! Because... uh, <insert lame excuse here>!" It was not pretty.
But I'm ready to go back. It's a new month, and I have a new attitude, and also I gained a couple of pounds, but more importantly, I went shopping at Bob's Yoga Pants Emporium and Mat Repair Shop and now I have the Right Outfit. Bring on the monkeys!
