Oooohhhhmmmm...

I had a de-virginizing experience last night. I went to yoga for the first time… ever.

Yes, I know most people have attended many various yoga classes, trying their hand in Bikram and Pilates. I haven’t. As previously discussed, I am not the most graceful person in the entire world- so the thought of being in a room of tranquility and tipping over from attempting stretches my body didn’t agree with hasn’t been the most desirable thought in the world.

In a fast paced aerobics class I have made a horrible spectacle out of myself. (Did I mention rhythm isn’t a strong point either?) Instructors have removed themselves off of their ‘steps’ to walk over to me and try to show my exactly what I was supposed to be doing. (Hello!?! I’m surrounded by mirrors, I realize I look like a total re-re) then give up, saying “What if you don’t try the arms yet, let’s just work on the feet”. So I continue trying the repetitious movements, only half as spasmatic as before.

While living in France I joined a gym with a couple of friends. We would go to the aerobic classes trying to follow instructions in a foreign tongue as easily as possible. I remember our femanazi instructor getting in our faces and shouting in words I couldn’t fully understand of how I wasn’t doing whatever she had demanded correctly. Then as friends and I would laugh about how ridiculous we were, she would yell that this was nothing to laugh about. She would show us by making us ‘feel the burn’ even more.

One evening we moved onto floor exercises, all grabbing thick black bands to wrap around our ankles extended in the air, stretching to the outer possible limits. I, of course, grabbed the faulty band that snapped as I stretched, flying through the air and hitting a woman near me. I almost died. Jas almost peed her pants laughing. I humbly got up, offered my feeble French apologies, and return to my allotted floor space and finished the class, sure that I had reaffirmed anyone’s distain for “Stupid American’s”.

So when the thought of yoga has risen in my head I have often combated it with horror stories heard of tipping over trying to wrap oneself up like a pretzel, gas being passed while far too relaxed, or just the thought that a person as non-flexible as myself would look ridiculous unable to do basic poses.

But when Miller Time called, I was intrigued and decided to brave it with a friend by my side. The class only had three students, including an older woman, Miller Time and me. I loved it! I didn’t pass gas, fall, or do any other thing that would make me too mortified to return. Although- the older woman next to me ‘let loose’ during one of our stretches. I had to do everything within my being to not come out of my newly-found Zen state and laugh. Thank God it wasn’t me.

So you’ll now be seeing me about town, yoga pack over my shoulder, drinking green tea, and blissfully aware of each and every breathe I take…