Year of Firsts: Yoga

I have long been against yoga. Why this is so, I'm not entirely sure. I guess I've just always been pretty anti exercise-for-the-sake-of-exercise. I mean, I think it's a fantastic IDEA, people SHOULD exercise, but I have never been able to handle things like exercise bikes or treadmills or weights or doing things to exercise that are nothing more than that--exercises.  I prefer to get exercise while doing something, like fencing or climbing. Although obviously I fail at doing either of those things with any kind of consistency so bottom line is I end up without exercise.

Yoga, though, has always seemed to me even more hateful than anything else. It's tied up in all the peace love bullshit, and seemed to involve a lot of sitting around and contorting and not accomplishing much of anything. 

In the summer, Lululemon (there you go, Lululemon, I'm paying you back in free advertising) hosts free yoga classes in the Dupont Circle, which is very near my office. Since this is my year of crossing boundaries and trying Firsts, I decided a free yoga class was an excellent next step. I figured it would be a good push on the physical capabilities front and the keeping an open mind front.

I went with one of the girls at work who has done yoga, and plays soccer, and eats well, and is generally physically superior to me in every way. She is kind hearted though, and one of the few people I trusted not to dissolve into total mockery. At least, not when it comes to me doing yoga.

I sauntered in with my new yoga mat and my workout pants and prepared to flop around uselessly so I could say that I had done it. What actually happened, though, was one of the most intense workouts I have ever undergone, outside of the medieval European martial art sword fighting introduction (please see appropriate blog entry if necessary).

The first ten minutes weren't too bad. Then I started to burn in most of my muscles. We were doing a lot of downward facing dog, which I feel is supposed to be the easy beginner pose but to me was the lowest level of hell.  I suspect I am simply doing it wrong, but in the meantime it is wreaking havoc on my wrists and my upper arms. My knees came down every 5 seconds.

"Bring your right foot slowly up to the edge of the mat," said the serene, petite instructor in an indoor voice.

My right foot lurched forward as my body lurched to the left.

"Stand in your warrior pose," she continued, voice like a low breeze.

I popped up, arms flailing as I teetered into warrior pose. I tried to bring my arms up gracefully, shifting balance to go from warrior to forward lunge, but I couldn't stretch them all the way and in the meantime my thighs were growing weak.

"Bring your leg up into your tree pose." The woman sounded like she had never been un-calm in her life.

I brought my leg up into tree pose and fell over.

There was a lot of this, over the hour, as my legs weakened and began to shake, as my arms began to burn, as every muscle stretched and strained and I became short of breath. I have never felt so worked out in my life.

I've done this twice now, and I'll be continuing through the summer, as it becomes hot yoga in the DC sun. Maybe by the end of it, downward facing dog won't make me cry. But we'll see.