It’s 6 a.m., the room dark except for the glow of two lamps... it’s quiet except for the soft music playing in the background. I remove my shoes and am thankful that it’s dark because my pedicure is pretty messed up. I step on the floor and notice that it’s actually heated.
Oh, now I’m excited because this class is gonna be sooo relaxing. I have every recommended apparatuses known to mankind to make yoga easier: blocks times two, a web strap and my mat and of course my place in the back of the room. I’m thinking that I really finally have the upper hand on this type of exercise because it involves two things I do anyway: breathing and no-impact movements, I have 48 years of experience at those.
Tiffany begins the class with some quiet meditation, this is harder than you think. I’m what you would consider to be a type “A” (as in add) personality so “quiet” and “meditation” are words that are definitely not in my vocabulary. I convince myself that the class is only 50 minutes and I can totally keep my mouth shut (expect for the breathing) the whole time.
Here we go... ummmmmmmmm ummmmmmm... I look around the room and everyone is so serious. I want to giggle. I fight it off. I’m thinking that yoga isn’t for me and that I should probably run like hell downstairs to do some serious cardio before I burst into laughter.
I refocus. Ummmmmmmmmmmm. At the same time, I’m wondering why all these people in yoga are in such great shape if all they do is “breathe” and do stuff that connects their core. Little did I know!
Tiffany tells us to stand, simple enough, I can do that! Then she tells us to bend and touch the floor and my troubles begin. I haven’t touched the floor while standing since well, ever! Ow!
Now... yoga... getting... harder... I’m breaking out in a sweat and wondering if I can make my escape out the door. Then she starts to use words that are foreign to me, like downward dog, childs pose, cobra, all the warriors and the dreaded planks. Planks! S**t!
Thoughts of why why why are surging through my head again. Tiffany says to hold the planks – she must have been trained by Andy the Boot Camp instructor because that’s exactly what he tells us to do! Trust me, holding any part of my body up for a long time is very bad. So much for relaxing.
Giggling is no longer a problem, I’m speechless. The room is silent except for the dripping gutter outside, I wonder why on earth a new building like HealthSPORT would have leaky gutters until I realized it was the sound of my own sweat beating against my mat – drip, drip, drip. Before long my mat is more like a Slip ’n’ Slide than a pad. Thankfully, unlike Boot Camp or Spin Class, the room is dark and nobody can see me.
Back up and it is more bending. In the quiet room you can actually hear my bones cracking as we change poses. I am getting self conscious. Every time I move: pop, crack like a bowl of Rice Krispies. I think to myself, “are these exercises dangerous?” I’ve never heard of anyone being carted away to the hospital from Yoga class (boot camp, ummm, maybe).
Actually Yoga people are wayyy different than me...they’re quiet, they’re focused, they are really in touch with their own bodies...everything that I’m not.
Now I’m really really part of the the Arcata culture....after all, everyone here does yoga. I’m proud to say that after attending Tiffany’s class 23 times, not only can I touch my own toes and do the whole flow with almost no resting... but I love yoga and most importantly I really really like the people in my class. It’s the only time at HealthSPORT when my body isn’t being beat to hell and I actually keep my mouth shut... (most of the time)...
I must say that a little giggle comes out every once in a while...but nobody in the class cares. My mat is still drippy but now I’ve moved to the front of the room.
Next up: STEP P A R T Y with Rachel D.
Debi Farber Bush is the slender lass you see slinking up G Street every day.