For the past two years, after experiencing minor bilateral shoulder surgery and sciatica, and doing some yoga on my own, I haven't been to a yoga class. Finally, I went to a yoga class today. Here's what I love about yoga:
After yoga, I feel like I have just participated in some extreme, dangerous, crazy sport, when the most distressing thing I had to experience was not having my own mat and wondering who the last person was who did “Child's Pose” or “Dying Roadkill Pose” on my communal mat.
The following example describes how I feel in yoga, instead of engaging in other workouts:
If earthworms exercised and simply did a plank between two rocks, they would get all the same benefits, without the considerably high chance of death. that they faced if they acted as earthworm Jim, sprinting down the sidewalk for half a block to risk: 1) trampling, 2) sun-scorch, 3) asphalt ass-burn, 4) Robin-depredation, 5) dehydration, 6) being picked up for hook duty as fish bait, or 7) wearing out all their cartilage.
Yoga also allows me to have that same sensation I felt back in high school, after a wrestling work out: the euphoria of to-the-max, exercised-induced nausea.
However, unlike high school wrestling, where a bunch of brooding, sweaty, grunting men surrounded me, I can pretend that a few attractive females in the yoga room are admiring my warrior pose.
Lastly, even though I know competition is anathema in yoga, I can’t help but notice that there is always at least some much younger, well-built guy whose legs are popping more than mine, and who is falling out of poses sooner than I do.
Thank you, yoga. I love you. With you, all things are possible again.
Loren M. Lambert © January 14, 2014
After yoga, I feel like I have just participated in some extreme, dangerous, crazy sport, when the most distressing thing I had to experience was not having my own mat and wondering who the last person was who did “Child's Pose” or “Dying Roadkill Pose” on my communal mat.
The following example describes how I feel in yoga, instead of engaging in other workouts:
If earthworms exercised and simply did a plank between two rocks, they would get all the same benefits, without the considerably high chance of death. that they faced if they acted as earthworm Jim, sprinting down the sidewalk for half a block to risk: 1) trampling, 2) sun-scorch, 3) asphalt ass-burn, 4) Robin-depredation, 5) dehydration, 6) being picked up for hook duty as fish bait, or 7) wearing out all their cartilage.
Yoga also allows me to have that same sensation I felt back in high school, after a wrestling work out: the euphoria of to-the-max, exercised-induced nausea.
However, unlike high school wrestling, where a bunch of brooding, sweaty, grunting men surrounded me, I can pretend that a few attractive females in the yoga room are admiring my warrior pose.
Lastly, even though I know competition is anathema in yoga, I can’t help but notice that there is always at least some much younger, well-built guy whose legs are popping more than mine, and who is falling out of poses sooner than I do.
Thank you, yoga. I love you. With you, all things are possible again.
Loren M. Lambert © January 14, 2014
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