Monday, August 30, 2010

Om stands for Oh My God!

For those of you that have been following my blog for some years now, you'll know that whilst I lived in the US I was a keen yoga student. I would go to practice at the studio a couple of times a week (not much, but enough to develop my practice). Since my arrival in Edinburgh eighteen months ago, I've not managed to do any yoga at all. Primarily because I've not discovered a teacher and studio and primarily because I've managed to find a gazillion other things and excuses as to why I can't.

I did briefly pop along to a session in a church hall but...well, I think the venue may have said it all. It was snooze-time yoga for octogenarians and, fresh from my Vinyasa flow, I was in need of faster things! "More fluidity!" I cried.

Finally I did find a studio, and in my infinite wisdom, signed myself up for a ten week course of led Ashtanga.

I had great visions of a svelte figure, inner peace, finding a flat tummy (it's a never ending quest!) and being able to get back to doing crane pose and head stand, which I'd mastered before I left.

What no one ever tells you though is that it takes months to build this up, but only seconds to lose it all.

Dignity and flat stomachs catapulting out of my grasp as fast as I could unroll my mat, this morning's lesson found me sweating like a badger's arse, discovering parts of my anatomy that I'd long since thought had left the building and struggling with pranayama and a full on cold, so that it may have been thought that there was an escaped pig in the room. The toned muscles, that were a thing of the past and may still be yet, were riddled with lactic acid rendering me almost immobile by the end and my eyes, saddled with cold and an inability to breath through my nose had me auditioning alongside Bugsy to steal his role in Bedtime Stories part 2: the revenge of the bulging eye balls !

She had me moving through the first five standing poses with grace and flexibility, (on her part - wobbles and shakes on mine) until I really regretted the decision I'd made to eat my tuna sandwich before the class started and began mentally assessing the exits and carpeted areas that needed avoiding, in case I felt the need to share this with her.

By the time we reached Savasana an hour later, I knew I'd arrived at the poor man's version of yoga Nidra without effort. "Try not to think about anything you need to do, relax your mind, allow yourself to feel heavy" she crooned. Who was she kidding?  Time to die I think!


Sarah @ PhotoFairytales said...

Excellent read, thank you!

Helen @ Business Plus Baby said...

Well I WAS thinking I should get back into yoga but maybe not, LOL! Thanks for entering the blog carnival.

Carrie said...

I think I might have preferred the village hall option!

Krista said...

Great article! Had me laughing :)

Mike said...

I'm glad your back at it or at least trying to get back into doing yoga regularly. You have to put your health first.