I have an uncanny ability to rationalize 20 sweaty minutes into a yoga DVD that, “I’ve done enough for the day.”
And so, after three months of robbery* from L.A. Fitness, I took my desire for a firm butt and my avoidance of prolonged periods of self-induced pain to yoga class, a.k.a. peer-pressured torture.
My instructor looked so calm it made me nervous. He announced that yoga is not practiced in socks. I reluctantly peeled mine off, fearful of the stench that would soon invade my air supply.**
Once our attire met his qualifications, we began class with legs crossed, hands in prayer and heads bowed. A room full of people and mandatory silence puts me on edge. I wanted to giggle, but refrained.
“Good job,” I thought, commending the growth of my maturity. At work, when people mention accessing our site from the back end, I snicker. Believe me, this refrain gave my maturity a noticeably higher smudge on the wall.
All praise aside, I was not prepared for what came next.
“Let us begin with a prayer,” he said.
And then, he continued, ““Hummmmmmmmmmmm hommidity hommidity bonch de lah hibbitty hibbitty hummmm.”
As mentioned, my sense of humor is at best juvenile and I was unarmed for battle.
But like a true warrior, I avoided this landmine. In the silent presence of more than twenty strangers, I dodged the rapid gunfire of foreign chanting and multiple “bonch” grenades targeted to kill any remaining composure.
I survived and yet, the assault was not over.
Downward dog. Upward dog. Warrior one. Warrior two. Stand on your head. Put one foot behind your right ear and the other up your ass.
It continued.
He made moves that were so complex and so painful, that most of us simply crawled back to child’s pose. A couple brave gentlemen with freakish upper body strength and apparently no flexibility constraints attempted these moves. But as we crouched comfortably, we heard their limbs pound the floor and once again, we, I, held in chuckles.
It was during one of these sheepish retreats from pain that I thought of the t-shirt design I must make in order to properly continue my yoga practice:
Any buyers? Seriously?
*If you put your membership on hold, L.A. Fitness automatically starts billing you again after three months. It’s quite logical when you think about it. My membership was on hold for three months. Never once did I think about setting foot in their gym. Obviously I was dying to get back in. I’m glad men view three months of silence after a “break” differently. And also, I’m glad that men don’t have the ability to withdraw automated payments from my bank account. That was really more than you need to know about L.A. Fitness, and my personal life, and history of romantic “breaks,” but we’re all friends here.
** He would later inform us that we only breath throw our noses. This was fantastic.
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