Alternative title: The last time I went to Yoga I had the unfortunate situation of being placed on the mat behind a 60 year old dude who was wearing shorts…During one move I ended up playing a horrifying game of peek-a-boo with his ball-sack. That image can not be bleached out of my brain…Nor can I look at dried prunes in the same way again.
“I should go back to yoga” I sigh as I stare at the very sad looking mat in the boot of my car.
“Why?” My brain chirped up, positively repulsed by the concept.
“Because it’s good for us. It makes us…Well…Bendy I guess”.
“Good for us? Really? Ruebi you try and manipulate your limbs in ways that, quite frankly, are terrifying while listening to some gassy so-and-so releasing their daily dose of green juice in such a way that the local sewage works smells like a rose garden in comparison and let’s not forget the time you managed to smash your knee into your nose with such force we ended up using a sock to stem the bleeding! Honestly, running the wrong way down the motorway while blindfolded would be a safer hobby”.
My brain makes a valid point…No, not about the bottom burps, actually it is probably right about the bottom burps too given that I was sick in my mouth once when I got a whiff of something resembling Victorian London during the Cholera era while taking an Ashtanga class.
No, my brain was right about the fact that I’m not the most graceful of creatures. If there is a table in the room I guarantee I will stub a toe on it (and an elbow when I topple over in a flurry of swearing, hands clasped over said toe which I am convinced has snapped in multiple places), if there is the merest speck of ice on the ground I guarantee I will find it (and will subsequently be found lying on the floor with my arms and legs flailing around in a full on tantrum), if I’m opening a yogurt I guarantee I will lose my grip on the lid and smash my hand into my face (I don’t wear glasses to provide me with near perfect vision, oh no, I wear glasses to protect my eyes from my fingers).
I am such a clumsy git.
Yoga is often seen as a flow of beautiful well constructed movements…and they are. When you master them. For me they are stances that make me shake and sweat and often leave me in a clump on the floor after face-planting out of the downward facing dog pose.
This is a very long winded way of saying I have Yoga class on Monday and fully expect some sort of injury…In which case I don’t want grapes sent to the hospital, I’ll be feeling miserable enough, instead please send the “Psychoville” Boxset and Creme Eggs! Lot’s and lot’s of gorgeous chocol- what do you mean I’m on a healthy eating kick? Ah man, I ruin everything. Fine…I’ll settle for the boxset…Grumble, whinge, grumble.
So folks, which exercise classes are you taking this year? Or planning to take this year?