For the past month or so, I’ve been having an affair.
I’ve been sneaking out of work a few minutes early so I can rush home and don my finest clothes.
Workout clothes, that is.
You see, I’ve been having an affair with my new yoga instructor. And by affair, I mean that every Tuesday I show up to his Vinyasa class and sweat through 75 minutes of him kicking my ass. In the most unsexual way possible.
The thing is, I sort of dread his class. I mean, I get excited to wrap up work and get home in time to get to class. I get excited at the thought of how I’ll feel after class. But the second I start walking to the studio I dread it. I think about how there’s no way I can make it through the class. That my stomach hurts. That I should turn around and go home. When I get there and the studio’s excessive heat hits me in the face I look at the instructor and seriously contemplate walking out before the class even starts. But for whatever reason, I keep myself rooted until the studio door closes and the instructor begins barking out instructions. Because let’s face it, this ain’t no new age class. We’re flowing to Snoop and classic rock. We’re not meditating and finding our chi, we’re sweating through each pose and pushing ourselves to the edge.
That’s when the magic happens. From the first down dog to the final Savasana, I work. And that’s when I realize this yoga instructor and this studio are exactly what I need. I’ve been doing yoga for almost 5 years now. I’ve practiced in my living room, at the local community college, and at my name brand gym. I’ve had great teachers but I’d hit a plateau. I was by no means a yoga goddess, but I was also not advancing my abilities.
Within a month of this class, I’ve done just that. Little by little I’ve been able to do things I could never do before. It seems like every week I find at least one a little breakthrough. Whether it’s achieving a one-arm balance (and lifting my leg while doing it!) or bending my back knee up and grabbing my back foot in pigeon pose, it’s something. And it keeps me coming back, lazy thoughts and all.
Luckily, I think I’ll be able to keep up with this affair. After all, why would DD say no to the svelte upper body I’m slowly gaining.