Yoga

A limber, lithe, leggy, shaggy-haired blonde, hippie (not hipster) was the husky-voiced smooth-talking yoga instructor this evening. My first public yoga class I’ve done in years (ie. it was not in my living room behind closed curtains).
Have you ever noticed how the people closest to the mirror in the gym studio are friggen huge, like baby elephants and those further away are tiny….tiny…tiny. I was right next to the mirror. Well…this baby elephant still managed to downward face that dog and salute the sun and warrior one while only exhaling loudly from the top of my body and pinching tightly the bottom of my body while blonde-hippie-yoga guy encourages releasing on the exhale. Tempting.

If it wasn’t for the little twiglet in front of me that kept toppling over I would have held my darn tree trunk pose for a second…as least!

60 minutes later I’m in child’s pose praying….Dear God let this be over, please, please let this be over before I pass out! 75 minutes later…finally …Exhale and Namaste….oozes loose-limb-yoga-guy. By this time I couldn’t say my name without quivering. And then…the biggest challenge of all….walking out of that studio without falling over. Lol.
Ask me how I feel tomorrow.

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