2008 has just knocked at our doors and I made a promise to myself: this year I would engage in a real exercise program, I wouldn’t reckon walking to the market across the street as work out anymore. Three friends of mine have experienced a Yoga class last week and they invited me to go on a free trial after workday. I’ve never been a fan of those kinds of calm and relaxing activities, I’m more of an agitated and outgoing person, but they told me so many great things about it, that would help me improve my balance and get more conscious about my own body, that I thought
“Indeed I need to chill out a little bit. What the hell, I’ll give it a shot”. – I convinced myself.
As we arrived at the yoga house I could see the serenity of the place exhilarating. White little rocks formed a path crossing through the front yard, leading to the house and a lot of trees around. Of course I was “lucky” enough to come across a battered car that noticeably has been parked above the beautiful path for the last 20 years, so I had to take my new gorgeous high-heel shoes for a walk over the muddy grass. Well, that would be OK if I haven’t just hit a branch with my head, making a lemon fall miles away off the tree.
“What an adventurous entrée!” – I considered.
We came into the master yoga room and I felt the hot, dense air suffocating me. There were four other students already there and they were squirming in ways I have never imagined anyone’s body could. The teacher, who was skinny as a pencil, was wearing a worn out outfit that was once white. His long and uncombed brown hair was tied in a horse-tail. He handed me a purple smelly mat which I had no idea what to do with. He must have noticed my weird look when I thought “are they brainsick?”
As I’m a very obstinate person (OK, stubborn maybe…) I put down the mat on the floor and hopefully waited for directions. Indeed they came out, it was a sort of:
“Hello everyone, this is a Swasthya (…or whatever) Yoga class, please follow my lead.” – the teacher told us, twirling and bending upon his red stained mat, without further guidance.
He expected us to repeat the exact same movements. At this point my friend and I glanced at each other and the laughs couldn’t be contained. In fact, we couldn’t do anything else but laugh. The teacher gave us a pierce look and we felt compelled to leave the room.
“Carin! No way would I ever been able to repeat that movement! We’ve got to try boxing next time!!” – I said, laughing as a kid.
