Yoga Bear

that's me. or, to be slightly more accurate: Yoga Cub (i've got at least 10 years till i reach Bear-hood, right?). last week, in light of my New Year's resolution to get in shape for the wedding, and after dismissing several other "workout options" i decided to take Stephen up on his offer to practice yoga. of all the other options (weight training, running, walking) it seemed the least...intrusive and offered the lowest possibility for public embarassment; it also meant that i could do it in my pajamas. now, he's been practicing on-and-off for years, so i was a bit hesitant to practice with him. like most people, i have alot of preconceived notions about yoga, similar to my notions about Feng Shui, aroma-therapy and macrobiotic dieting: it's all New Age, Spirtualistic hoo-ha. i roll my eyes and scoff openly at expressions like "regulating bodily humors" and "balancing my internal energy". Stephen assured me that i didn't have to "believe" in anything to benefit from it, which suited me just fine. the real selling point was when he said i could listen to whatever music i wanted to. crank up Blondie and haul out the mat.

now, in case you don't actually know me, let me tell you right now: i hate exercise. i was that kid in grammar school and high school that actively sought ways to avoid gym class and organized sporting events. in fact, in high school, i actually failed gym one quarter because i had "forgotten" my uniform too many times. i changed the F to a P on my report card so mom wouldn't find out. mom, if you're reading this i'm sorry but the idea of Dodge ball was too much for a fat freshman to take. not much has changed since then, i occasionally take the stairs to get to the cafeteria at work, but the majority of my day i spent in as sedintary position as possible. anyway...

Stephen started off very slowly with me, introducing the various poses and helping me get acquainted with how they're supposed to make my body feel. Child's pose, downward dog, upward dog, up-plank, down-plank, rag doll, half bend and mountain pose. by the time i was done, i was sweating like a blonde at the SATs. i had used muscles in my legs i didn't know i had and felt burning in parts of my body that i knew couldn't be healthy. after the breathe and repeat, i wanted to die, but i went through it again. Twenty minutes later, the "workout" was over. Stephen told me he was proud of me. now don't think he was being condescending, 'cause to tell the truth, i was proud of me. knowing my general abhorance to physical activity and exertion, getting off the couch was a major step. we agreed to practice at least three times a week, after work on week days and in the morning on Saturdays.

i'll admit, we only practiced once this week, but only because we were running back and forth to the hospital...it's not an excuse, it's life. i'm still a little nervous about advancing beyond the poses (postures?) we've done so far. he's shown me a couple of new ones, and had me in them earlier today and they just plain hurt. i'm still a little sore and weak in the knees. i'm confidant, though that with his help and assurance that one doesn't have to be "perfect" i'll be fine.

plus after every workout, i get a kiss from my instructor. how many people can say that?