TIFU by going to a yoga class.
XL I decided to go to a yoga class. OK. That’s
obviously a lie. My GF talked me into it. She said something about how flexibility is
a real turn on or people should be able to touch their toes without sweating and gargling,
or some such malarkey. In reality, I think she just didn’t want to go alone, and taking
me meant that there was no possible way for her to be the worst one there. And I’m obviously
too dumb to realize all of this because it all just now occurred to me. Dang it. Anyways, I went. When we arrived, I was the
only dude there. Everyone else was in good shape, female, and wearing all of the yoga
accoutrements. Yoga pants, headbands, funky big shirts that still showed some part of
their athletic tops, and bare feet. Most of them were standing around on one foot with
their other foot flamingoed to their knees. They were probably drinking herbal tea and
discussing their upcoming retreat to India. They were all petite and graceful. And then
there was me. I looked like a guy at a pick-up basketball game that was about to get chosen
last. I walked over to the lady behind the computer
to pay up. The computer was playing soft world music. I paid my money, and was given a yoga
mat, a towel, a foam block, a nylon strap thingy, and a pillow. I was fairly confused
by most of these items, but I couldn’t help but be a little excited by the pillow and
the prospect of a nap. When I walked in, nearly all of the spots
were taken. There were two spots together in the far back corner next to the door and
the fan. Perfect for the old cool down and escape routine I was already planning in my
head. I put down my mat in its little premarked mat parking spot, and I flopped down. I left
my brick, nylon strap, and pillow behind me. I kept my towel close by. When the instructor came in and sat down,
everyone got quiet. She spoke in a soft, pleasant voice. She used words like energy, spirit,
awakening, inner, and good morning. The first thing she had us do was make a surfer,
hang loose hand gesture and then hold our noses between our thumbs and pinkies. Then
we were to alternate nostrils and take deep breaths in and out of one nostril then plugging
it and breathing in and out of the other one. Despite having a little cramp in my hand,
I’d give myself a solid B+ for Nostril Plug Breathing Pose. After making sure that we got all of the snot
out of our noses (I’m guessing that’s what it was for) we were told to get on all
fours. Once we were all into Mount Me Pose we were to alternate between Cow Pose and
Cat Pose. Cow Pose means you put your chest and belly down. Being of a certain body type
and having gravity on my side, this particular pose was no problem. Although, the term Cow
Pose does seem a bit mean. Cat Pose is where you arch your back straight up like a cat
stretching in the morning sunlight. Alternating between these two poses made me look like
a giant, sweaty, dryheaving cat. I’d give myself a B- for Yaking Kitty Flow. After Yaking Kitty Flow, we moved into Child’s
Pose. Having taught children for years now, I’d say that this name is severely inaccurate.
Child’s Pose should either be having your hand out asking for candy, pointing across
the room because another kid did some stupid crap, or squirming around holding your crotch.
This particular pose looked like a slave bowing to their masters in old films about Egypt.
We were told that if we ever need to take a break, or if anything becomes too tough
then we could always revert back to Eqyptian Slave Pose. This part worried me a bit since
this pose wasn’t particularly comfortable. You are supposed to have your arms stretched
out in front of you praying to the sun-god, Ra, while also placing your butt on the heels
of your feet. But for some reason when I try to sit on my heels, it’s like I have a forcefield
preventing me from going the rest of the way down. Apparently, my muscles are pretty stubborn.
So, after the 4th attempt of bouncing my butt at my heels and nearly rocketing forward head
first into the lady in front of me, I just accepted my version of Egyptian Slave With
a Floaty Butt Pose. Next, we did a Plank. This is the top of a
push up that you just hold for about forever and a day. Once your arms start to tremble
pretty hard then you get to pick up one of your feet and point it straight up in the
air at the ceiling. This is pretty smart because then your body doesn’t know which pain to
focus on, so you just hone in on not drooling all over yourself. Once you feel like jelly,
you get to swing your leg that’s supposed to be elegantly positioned at 12 o’clock,
but in all actually is chillin more towards a shaky 4-4:30, all the way up to you chest
and place your foot in between your hands. Having lost all feeling in my leg, I let it
swing freely. My knee struck me in the chest and my foot landed on my hand, but my arms
were thankful for the extra support of holding up my pudgy torso. From here you get to stand up in Warrior 1
Pose. You pretty much stand like Rafiki holding up Simba for all the animals in the Lion King
to see. From there you do a little jig and change to Warrior 2 Pose. This one makes you
look like you are surfing a huge wave. You put both arms out and pop a super hard gangster
lean to one side. You’ll know you are doing it right when it feels like your leg is being
slowly sawed off at the hip joint. Your arms are also supposed to be stretched out and
strongly posed at 3 and 9 o’clock. But that crap hurts. When was the last time you held
your arms up longer than the few seconds it takes to get something off of a high shelf
or display your enjoyment when going on a roller coaster? So, after every few seconds,
I kept pretending like I had different itches all over so I could release the tension from
my arms. I also wondered how many people would notice if I just dropped down to Egyptian
Slave With a Floaty Butt Pose. Then we cooled things down a bit. We laid
down and just stretched our hand above our heads in ‘the remotes behind me and I can
almost get it’ pose. After this we were told to hug our knees and rock back and forth.
This one was my favorite because after all this punishment, there wasn’t anything I
wanted more than to get into the fetal position and rock back and forth. Now that we were good and warmed up we started
doing our Venice Sausage Flow (I may have misheard her). This is where you stand up.
A+. Then you touch your toes (upper shins). C-. Then, you lumber down to a trembly plank.
D+. Then you do this sort of circular push up that ends with your head up and your bosom
thrusted forward like The Little Mermaid coming out of the ocean. It felt like a lap dance
manuever. Then you stick your butt up in the air while on all fours, then sensually rise
up. Then you just rinse and repeat. I’ll be honest, I felt a bit like Magic Mike with
a hard emphasis on the XL. The next thing we did was cross our feet and
and touch our toes (knees). At this point the GF assisted me by giving me my foam block.
I would’ve prefered it be about 2 feet taller, but it did help quite a bit. This was the
point that I started to notice how much I smelled. And despite being super happy to
be right in front of the fan, I also happened to realize that it was doing very little to
keep me cooler while simultaneously wafting my stench through the whole studio. Being
super nice yoga chics, they only gagged slightly. If anything, it’ll prepare them for their
Indian retreats. After that we were told to get on our bellies.
Aced that one. Then we were asked to bend our legs and grab our ankles from behind.
In my younger days, we called this a flying squirrel. We would do this off the diving
board all the time. Apparently, time has not been friendly to my joints. Try as I might,
I was unable to grasp both of my ankles. I got one of them once, but the little idiot
slipped out of my sweaty hand as I lunged at the other one. This is when the instructor
came over, grabbed my nylon strap, and put me into Self-Hogtie Pose. Freaking embarrassing.
It was like sitting on an airplane, struggling to fasten your seat belt, and then having
everyone watch as the stewardess brings your fat butt the seat belt extender. Since I was
all tangled up, I was unable to just give up and enter Egyptian Slave With a Floaty
Butt Pose. I just had to fight through the pain. After that we were told to get the pillow
out. Finally, nap time! But instead we were instructed to put it behind our butts and
lift our legs straight up in the air. Determined not to get strapped up again, I freaking ended
it. My legs were straight as arrows for like a minute. Let’s be real though, they would
drop considerably whenever the instructor wasn’t looking. But they were straight as
crap when she was. After a whopping 75 minutes of self-inflicted
pain, we were finally able to quit. At the end everyone was given time to sit quietly
and reflect. At the end of self-reflection time, or as I like to call it, “swearing
that I’ll never freaking do this bullcrap again” time, everybody did an Asian hand
clap motion and said the name of their favorite Indian restaurant. I tucked my tail firmly
between my legs and got the freak outta dodge. Yoga is not for everybody.