Today, I fucked up... by going to a yoga class.
I decided to go to a yoga class. OK. That’s obviously a lie. My GF talked me into it. She said something about how flexibility is a real turn on or people should be able to touch their toes without sweating and gargling, or some such malarkey. In reality, I think she just didn’t want to go alone, and taking me meant that there was no possible way for her to be the worst one there. And I’m obviously too dumb to realize all of this because it all just now occurred to me. Damn it.
Anyways, I went. When we arrived, I was the only dude there. Everyone else was in good shape, female, and wearing all of the yoga accoutrements. Yoga pants, headbands, funky big shirts that still showed some part of their athletic tops, and bare feet. Most of them were standing around on one foot with their other foot flamingoed to their knees. They were probably drinking herbal tea and discussing their upcoming retreat to India. They were all petite and graceful. And then there was me. I looked like a guy at a pick-up basketball game that was about to get chosen last.
I walked over to the lady behind the computer to pay up. The computer was playing soft world music. I paid my money, and was given a yoga mat, a towel, a foam block, a nylon strap thingy, and a pillow. I was fairly confused by most of these items, but I couldn’t help but be a little excited by the pillow and the prospect of a nap.
When I walked in, nearly all of the spots were taken. There were two spots together in the far back corner next to the door and the fan. Perfect for the old cool down and escape routine I was already planning in my head. I put down my mat in its little premarked mat parking spot, and I flopped down. I left my brick, nylon strap, and pillow behind me. I kept my towel close by.
When the instructor came in and sat down, everyone got quiet. She spoke in a soft, pleasant voice. She used words like energy, spirit, awakening, inner, and good morning.
The first thing she had us do was make a surfer, hang loose hand gesture and then hold our noses between our thumbs and pinkies. Then we were to alternate nostrils and take deep breaths in and out of one nostril then plugging it and breathing in and out of the other one. Despite having a little cramp in my hand, I’d give myself a solid B+ for Nostril Plug Breathing Pose.
After making sure that we got all of the snot out of our noses (I’m guessing that’s what it was for) we were told to get on all fours. Once we were all into Mount Me Pose we were to alternate between Cow Pose and Cat Pose. Cow Pose means you put your chest and belly down. Being of a certain body type and having gravity on my side, this particular pose was no problem. Although, the term Cow Pose does seem a bit mean. Cat Pose is where you arch your back straight up like a cat stretching in the morning sunlight. Alternating between these two poses made me look like a giant, sweaty, dryheaving cat. I’d give myself a B- for Yaking Kitty Flow.
After Yaking Kitty Flow, we moved into Child’s Pose. Having taught children for years now, I’d say that this name is severely inaccurate. Child’s Pose should either be having your hand out asking for candy, pointing across the room because another kid did some stupid shit, or squirming around holding your crotch. This particular pose looked like a slave bowing to their masters in old films about Egypt. We were told that if we ever need to take a break, or if anything becomes too tough then we could always revert back to Eqyptian Slave Pose. This part worried me a bit since this pose wasn’t particularly comfortable. You are supposed to have your arms stretched out in front of you praying to the sun-god, Ra, while also placing your ass on the heels of your feet. But for some reason when I try to sit on my heels, it’s like I have a forcefield preventing me from going the rest of the way down. Apparently, my muscles are pretty stubborn. So, after the 4th attempt of bouncing my ass at my heels and nearly rocketing forward head first into the lady in front of me, I just accepted my version of Egyptian Slave With a Floaty Ass Pose.
Next, we did a Plank. This is the top of a push up that you just hold for about forever and a day. Once your arms start to tremble pretty hard then you get to pick up one of your feet and point it straight up in the air at the ceiling. This is pretty smart because then your body doesn’t know which pain to focus on, so you just hone in on not drooling all over yourself. Once you feel like jelly, you get to swing your leg that’s supposed to be elegantly positioned at 12 o’clock, but in all actually is chillin more towards a shaky 4-4:30, all the way up to you chest and place your foot in between your hands. Having lost all feeling in my leg, I let it swing freely. My knee struck me in the chest and my foot landed on my hand, but my arms were thankful for the extra support of holding up my pudgy torso.
From here you get to stand up in Warrior 1 Pose. You pretty much stand like Rafiki holding up Simba for all the animals in the Lion King to see. From there you do a little jig and change to Warrior 2 Pose. This one makes you look like you are surfing a huge wave. You put both arms out and pop a super hard gangster lean to one side. You’ll know you are doing it right when it feels like your leg is being slowly sawed off at the hip joint. Your arms are also supposed to be stretched out and strongly posed at 3 and 9 o’clock. But that shit hurts. When was the last time you held your arms up longer than the few seconds it takes to get something off of a high shelf or display your enjoyment when going on a roller coaster? So, after every few seconds, I kept pretending like I had different itches all over so I could release the tension from my arms. I also wondered how many people would notice if I just dropped down to Egyptian Slave With a Floaty Ass Pose.
Then we cooled things down a bit. We laid down and just stretched our hand above our heads in ‘the remotes behind me and I can almost get it’ pose. After this we were told to hug our knees and rock back and forth. This one was my favorite because after all this punishment, there wasn’t anything I wanted more than to get into the fetal position and rock back and forth.
Now that we were good and warmed up we started doing our Venice Sausage Flow (I may have misheard her). This is where you stand up. A+. Then you touch your toes (upper shins). C-. Then, you lumber down to a trembly plank. D+. Then you do this sort of circular push up that ends with your head up and your bosom thrusted forward like The Little Mermaid coming out of the ocean. It felt like a lap dance manuever. Then you stick your butt up in the air while on all fours, then sensually rise up. Then you just rinse and repeat. I’ll be honest, I felt a bit like Magic Mike with a hard emphasis on the XL.
The next thing we did was cross our feet and and touch our toes (knees). At this point the GF assisted me by giving me my foam block. I would’ve prefered it be about 2 feet taller, but it did help quite a bit. This was the point that I started to notice how much I smelled. And despite being super happy to be right in front of the fan, I also happened to realize that it was doing very little to keep me cooler while simultaneously wafting my stench through the whole studio. Being super nice yoga chics, they only gagged slightly. If anything, it’ll prepare them for their Indian retreats.
After that we were told to get on our bellies. Aced that one. Then we were asked to bend our legs and grab our ankles from behind. In my younger days, we called this a flying squirrel. We would do this off the diving board all the time. Apparently, time has not been friendly to my joints. Try as I might, I was unable to grasp both of my ankles. I got one of them once, but the little bastard slipped out of my sweaty hand as I lunged at the other one. This is when the instructor came over, grabbed my nylon strap, and put me into Self-Hogtie Pose. Fucking embarrassing. It was like sitting on an airplane, struggling to fasten your seat belt, and then having everyone watch as the stewardess brings your fat ass the seat belt extender. Since I was all tangled up, I was unable to just give up and enter Egyptian Slave With a Floaty Ass Pose. I just had to fight through the pain.
After that we were told to get the pillow out. Finally, nap time! But instead we were instructed to put it behind our butts and lift our legs straight up in the air. Determined not to get strapped up again, I fucking killed it. My legs were straight as arrows for like a minute. Let’s be real though, they would drop considerably whenever the instructor wasn’t looking. But they were straight as shit when she was.
After a whopping 75 minutes of self-inflicted pain, we were finally able to quit. At the end everyone was given time to sit quietly and reflect. At the end of self-reflection time, or as I like to call it, “swearing that I’ll never fucking do this bullshit again” time, everybody did an Asian hand clap motion and said the name of their favorite Indian restaurant. I tucked my tail firmly between my legs and got the fuck outta dodge. Yoga is not for everybody.
TLDR- Stunk up a yoga studio, and got hog-tied by my instructor for sucking at life.
