I'm cross-posting this with some minor edits, from my fitness blog.
To start, I haven’t been to a yoga class in just under 4 years. I
started going during Monkey's first deployment when I found myself
restless, stressed, and missing him very very much. I
hadn’t slept well for two weeks. There was a yoga studio next to my
dance studio and I decided to take a drop-in class one evening. Slept.
Like. A. Rock. I don’t know if it was the physical exhaustion from
sweating out half your body weight in a 100 degree room, or if I was
actually able to find center and clear my mind long enough to fall
asleep. But it was miraculous.
I kept it up until I either ran out of time, or money. I can’t recall
which. Either way, I eventually fell out of it. I don’t even remember
if I missed it. But I did remember how good it made me feel. Yet, I’ve
been afraid to go back. I’m not sure where that’s coming from. I
thought, perhaps I feared I would be “bad” at it after all this time.
But I’m the kind of person who’s up for anything. I learned a long time
ago to stop caring how I perceived myself in learning a new skill.
Everyone starts in the same place. I don’t even care if people judge me
for “sucking” anymore. Whatev’s. This is my journey and I’m here for me.
I have yet to answer this question for myself. But last night, I went
back to yoga. My schedule got all mish-mashed having to work late
Tuesday night; so I decided to do an extra day at
ME Fitness in NE Portland. After a quick
TRX
blast class, and 30 minutes on the ‘gluteal’ setting on the elliptical,
I mustered up a pretend confidence and dropped in on the last yoga
class of the night.
I giggle a little on the inside at hearing the CD of chimes and
“Ommm’s” in the background. The perfectly 78 degree room warmed me from
the inside out. I was excited for a good stretch after a hard 3 days of
gym/dance/muay thai. I placed my rental mat on the empty floor and
stashed my things in a cubby. I return to my mat to find that I have
placed it in the wrong direction now that other students were arriving
and eyeballing my miss-placed set up.
I lowered myself onto my newly correctly orientated mat, and started
slowly stretching out in a very non-yogi style. Class begins and I’m
delighted and disappointing at the same time. It was harder than I
remember.
I’m never one to turn down a physical challenge, so I welcomed the
extra workout after my previous hour. But, I was hoping for more of a
pure stretch out. I understand there are many different types of yoga. I
guess this one isn’t the stretchy kind. I enjoyed it regardless. I
learned some new ways to pretzelfy myself in some position named after a
bird. We performed lots and lots of downward dog, achieving an always
needed entire-back-of-the-leg stretch. I found myself wishing I hadn’t
just ellipsed for 30 minutes prior. My shaking legs made me feel weak
and disappointed in my performance. I decided I didn’t care. As long as I
was pushing myself as hard as I could, I would be getting something out
of it.
Next we moved to inverted positions. Well, I attempted to move to an
inverted position. I can do a headstand all day long in a tripod
position. Not so much in the elbows-on-the-floor-hands-behind-head
position. I tried my hardest not to look like a duck chasing fish under
the water with my tail feathers flitting around in the air. Also, I
forgot about the T4 syndrome I’m recovering from. Owie. Guess I won’t be
trying that again any time soon. Disappointing but probably a good
idea.
Lastly, we returned to the floor to slow down, find center, and
practice a few of our own “Oooommm’s”. At first I felt goofy, always
starting a second after the others, but a smile crossed my face as I
relished in the harmonies we were making. The lower voices of the lone
male yogi, and the varied soft female voices created a harmonious chord
which truly brought me joy. The energy gave a final peace to my evening.
I left feeling accomplished in the challenged and a little more tired
than expected. But I remembered the familiar calm and comfort from 4
years prior when the practice was a necessity. I drove home with a
clear head and a calm mind.
Today, my neck is reminding me that I forgot about its injury, but
otherwise, still relishing in the experience. However, I still have a
hesitation about going back. Though I know that as soon as I get there I
will be glad I did. I’m wondering where this internal reluctance is
coming from. It is always thwarted once my feet are on the mat.
Any thoughts? Have you experienced this with things in your life?
Do you do Yoga? What is your favorite thing about it?
