Namaste, Bitches

Daughter and I have decided to give Yoga a try.  She signed us up last week and tonight is our second class.  It was a little disconcerting to be walking into someone’s private home as a Yoga studio, but we decided to keep an open mind and give it a go.

Our Yogi is a slightly-more-than-middle-aged woman who has cleared away the front room of her house to use as a space for practicing.  It was spacious and warm, a perfect spot, really.   There are only 8 people to a class, and to say Daughter is the youngest is akin to stating that an elephant is big.  EVERYONE is my age or older.  She seemed undaunted by this, but I was a bit concerned.  I mean, hey it’s all good for me sista, but she’s just a youngin’…not the class I think she had in mind when she went on Google to find a studio.  Yep.  Googled ‘Yoga Studios’ in our area and this is the one she chose…huh.

yoga

Yeah, we don’t look quite like this

I was unfazed by the older man with the ZZ Top beard and the ragged faded jeans, but the dude who placed his mat beside me (I think his name was Brian) was a heavy breather.  Yep.  Like a bad Seinfeld episode, this guy sounded like he had just run a marathon in under four minutes.  Good thing he wasn’t a close-talker or I really would have had an issue…

seinfeld-close-talker

Close Talkers and Heavy Breathers back up and turn over, please

There were more men than I expected, but I think they were part of couples since the ladies they joined seemed to be very supportive and insightful in the ways of Yoga.   “Bob, YOU WON’T NEED THAT BIG CABLE KNIT SWEATER DURING CLASS.  UGH”.     “Jim YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG”    “Frank, for GOD’S SAKE JUST BREATHE!”

I did not hear any of that, but it would have been AWESOME if I had.

Couples Yoga should provide counselling services after class.

Hello, business idea for the psychiatrically inclined…

By the way, ‘psychiatrically’ is probably not a word and I’m not about to look it up.  I just spent waaaay too much time re-watching Seinfeld episodes looking for a Heavy Breather gag…

The class was a wee bit longer than I thought and when she pulled out the bolsters and dimmed the lights, I thought ‘couples yoga’ is about to get weeeirrrrrd, but it was more like nap time in Kindergarten.  Sorry, ‘relaxing time’…

Her voice suddenly dropped a few octaves as she went around the room to make sure we were ‘relaxed’…mkay.   I suppressed my urge to laugh and made it through relaxation time unscathed…. except for Heavy Breather Dude who I think almost went into cardiac arrest when it was time to come back to reality and this plane of existence…and stand up.

Poor Bob had to put on his sweater lest he got a chill….tonight is about to get awesome with Geriatric Couples Yoga….

yoga-posing

Lose the sweater, Bob.  It’s about to get real up in here…

I CAN’T WAIT!!

Namaste, Bitches.

 

 

Namaste and Other Yoga Words I Can’t Say

I attended my first yoga class evah, last night with Bestie, D and KS. We thought it would be a good way to start the New Year off right and it may be fun!  Apparently, ‘fun’ is relative.  The location was a small structure that I kindly referred to like this:  “OH MY GOD WE’RE DOING YOGA IN A SHED!”  Had it been equipped with a dart board and a wood stove, we would have rushed to the nearest liquor store for the wine and snacks, Yoga class be damned.  As it turned out, it was a small daycare complete with cubbie holes and manipulative block area.  The room NEXT to the daycare room was where I would experience the Downward Dog and the Tree pose ( I was more of a stick, than a tree.  Yeah.)

The dog is laughing at my downward dog.

The dog is laughing at my downward dog.

We managed to secure prime location spots at the back and to the right side of the room so as not to disrupt the rest of the class with giggling that may have escaped us during any portion of completing the poses.  We managed to be somewhat mature adults (yay us!) for the majority of the time.  There were some serious students of the Yoga practice who attended and we did not want to appear rude or inconsiderate.

Apparently, Yoga is a meditative and QUIET activity where they try to instill an aura of inner peace and tranquil contemplation.  Oh, yeah sign me the fuck up.  Sure…I can be quiet, in fact I AM quiet ¾ of the time…except, at the end of the class when we were supposed to lie down and be COMPLETELY STILL.   Yeah.   I reached for my water to have a sip before I fell into a near catatonic state of relaxation.  As I reached for my water bottle, it erroneously decided to explode in ma face sending water spraying into my eye like a whale expelling air from its blowhole.  Meanwhile, the instructor was going around the room dimming the lights and getting everybody blankets and pillows.  It was like nap time in kindergarten going on.  I was confused…and soaking wet from the spray of water in ma face.  I felt the urge to proclaim “WTF?!”, instead simply looked over at KS who was laughing, which got me laughing, but we were QUIETLY laughing, so no rules broken there.  We rock.  And then came quiet contemplation time and we had to be PERFECTLY STILL.  (which never really happened as I was hearing everybody else breathe and then some random bell started ringing and I thought I was hearing things or was that a poor excuse for a fire alarm?, and then some guy began to ‘sing’ and I use that term loosely ‘cause it was more like he was yodeling really…not actually singing.  My eyes darted open as I was half expecting the room to rise up and start getting their shoes on to escape the fire that was surely blazing out of control in the closet where all the cork bricks were stacked and the yodeler was truly hiding, but as I stealthily looked around the room so as not to get caught cheating, I noticed everybody else was laying still so I assumed this bell-ringing and yodeling was SUPPOSED to happen.  Ohhhhh.) No flames, no fire and no hunky firemen…damn, this Yoga thing kinda sucks.

Ugh…I bit the inside of my cheeks so I didn’t have to be the totally immature one and break out in an inappropriate amount of laughter.  It’s like that laughing disease people have…spontaneous uncontrollable laughter at the most inappropriate times.  KS thinks she is a victim of this disease.  I think I am a victim of KS’s thinking of her victimization and the impending laughter that will surely ensue if we ever stop biting various appendages…she her hands, me my inner cheeks.  AND, by ‘cheeks’ I mean the ones on my face.  I would be a Yoga MASTER if I could bite my own ass cheeks. I think I just invented a new pose….I’ll call it “Crunching Idiot”.

This ain't gonna happen any time soon.

This ain’t gonna happen any time soon.

That would be a feat of brilliance I’ll save for maybe my second or third class…AND the hunky firemen.  What?  I gotta have something to think about during Catatonic Rest Time.  Geesh.  (there is a more accurate yoga term for that, but I can’t remember what it is…and too lazy to look it up.)

Until next time, as Joanne and Hal say, keep fit and have fun.

I bet Joanne can chew her cheeks...betcha.

I bet Joanne can chew her cheeks…betcha.