May I just tell you that running like hell home from work after a multi-hour delay because of a disparaged Captain, changing into skimpy gay yoga attire, and driving the Camry Hybrid like a mad man while trying to pass up the TriMet #33 Fremont bus to get to the gym on time is not a good idea. I arrived to a full parking lot (again) and forgot my yoga mat in the car....which I didn't realize until I was all of the way up to the classroom. I had been gone from home since 5:15am and it was now nearing 4pm. I wanted so badly to make it to the gym and yoga this afternoon. Alas, it was only to be the yoga for today. I arrived frazzled but glad to be there. Without my nice mat. Oh well, I'll just use one from the club....except that they are not large enough and they are slick.....neither of which is acceptable when trying to do yoga poses. So, I find my friend Dave and we settle down together at the back of the room up against the windows that open up to the beautiful winter sky and sunshine beaming in.
The music begins a few minutes before 4....the music varies depending on the instructor. But today it was zen-sort-of-stuff. Protocol has it that you really should stretch out and begin to meditate during this time. Talking and other such activity is sin and could easily send you straight to hell (just ask the last person that was talking during this quiet time....it wasn't pretty). So Zen Music and Gay Boy Meet No Mat gets started. We typically begin in a seated position, legs crossed, and arms out on the knees, open and palms up for release. Eyes closed. All is well. Except for this one little teeny tiny thing. Flatulence. And, believe me, once that bad boy has escaped, there's really not much else that can be done to lower expectations any further. I mean, I've heard it a few times but from other people. Not pretty. Oh, but hey, there's one good thing. At least I had decided to move my undersized slick yoga club mat out of the way and sit right straight on the floor -- the wooden floor that makes all noises sound just that much greater than they really are. Lucky me. (Note to self: Keep eyes closed, don't glance anywhere, show no emotion, pretend like it wasn't you.)
I struggled through the whole hour. I tried to do as much of the hour with my eyes closed today...a little personal challenge for enhancing focus and challenging my body. But it was quite obvious that I haven't been to class as regular as of late. I fought my way through Warrior III pose, Dancer's Pose and a few others that brought extra beads of sweat to an already frazzled brow and embarrassed ass. My final remarks to my buddy Dave were that "I sure am a pussy." It's obvious that I have work to do. And less cauliflower and broccoli in my diet.