Tonight I went into a yoga class. I did the TRX routine just before, and thought what the heck I’ll hit up this one too.Now this wasn’t my first yoga experience. I have followed along the Spanish language lady that airs on weekdays at like 6a.m. but this was the first time I ever attempted yoga in front of people.

As I walk in the studio the instructor tells us we’ll need mats and weights. 

Uh what? Weights? Okay…

I must be early, I’m the only guy and the 4 ladies in this class all seem to know each other. Music starts. I’m not late. 

So as a warm up we stretch and breathe and stretch and breathe. I got this. We fold and bend, it’s easier to understand this in English so I’m feeling pretty good so far.

I’m not flexible. I have to modify nearly every exercise because a flat foot, arm vertical and knee pressed against my Adam’s apple is simply not going to happen. I’m sweating pretty good when the music starts playing something the instructor didn’t like. I couldn’t tell you what ’cause I’m holding a plank with one leg straight up (that was the goal anyway) and the opposite arm pointing to the friggin mirror in front of me. Evidently this music is really important, my neck muscles hurt too bad to turn to see if the other gals are still holding and my vision is blurred enough that all I see in the mirror is me not breathing enough, and the early warning sings of an aneurysm. 

Song change. Release into children’s pose. BEST POSE in yoga! I grab the sweat towel and swab the salt out of my eyes. Before I know it 20 minutes have passed and the weights next to my shoes still have not been touched.

Hmm. 

All of the sudden our next position is some sort of power pose that pushes my legs to their limits. “Now, grab your weights” 

Of course. We’re doing curls, presses, and some other bull honkey all while DOING THE SPLITS. Switch sides of the knee that’s less stretched and do it all again.

This is the moment I come to understand that this isn’t a half hour class. My face must have conveyed this realization because the instructor announces that “we’re halfway there”

We get to lay down and do some presses. I’m seriously thinking “how do I walk out of this room smoothly?”

I decided to just go with it.

Next we are up on a knee stretching the uh, something or other. Here’s where Satan, I mean instructor, Lucifer suggests raising the back foot and reaching back and grabbing toes. For fun. I hope this never is my idea of fun. I want flexibility. But this ain’t fishing, or poker, or listening to neighbors scream at each other. Fun? You bitch. 

Needless to say, I couldn’t reach. But I managed to groan loud enough to draw all 5 people in the room with perfect form’s attention. The instructor repeats “but only for fun”

I finish the class. I thank Lucy fur .

Limp into the locker room to rinse and prepare to relax in the hot tub.

I respect anyone that can hold those positions. I will eventually get those cool ab dimples if I keep coming home this sore, right?

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