The Wheel of Yoga

So-called, because just like the tireless hamster, I repeat the following process weekly:

1. The Journey: Feeling smug and healthy, I skip to yoga class with Evian in one hand, a rosy apple in the other and my mat bouncing on my back. All is splendid.

2. The Arrival: we stake our claim to the space. It is important to find the ideal spot that is close enough to see the teacher, but far enough not to be kicked in the face during the three-legged dog pose.

3. The Warm-up: generally characterized by a residue of smugness mingled with an ‘aaah’ as the muscles and joints creak and pop back from the week-long s-shape inspired by chaining to the desk.

4. The Core: now in full swing, all smugness is gone and faces are puce from upside-down poses. I no longer feel healthy and consider checking myself into boot-camp. I am now the most unhealthy person alive.

5. The ‘Why me?’ Moment: there’s always one pose that my body refuses to cooperate on. As arms are bent backwards at quirky angles, mine resolutely raise two inches from my behind. Upside-down, I curse them silently.

6. Almost There: Yoga, thy name is pain.

7. Meditation: My favourite part. In fact, it is the reason I endure all of the above. The blankets unfurl, jumpers are pulled on, the lights dimmed, a choir commences, someone snores and my muscles scream as they turn to stone for the next two days.

8. The End: Walking home, uneaten rosy in apple in one hand and undrunk Evian in the other, I am incapable of raising my arms above waist level. I stagger home, semi-concious from step 7, tumble into bed and look forward to doing it all again 🙂

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This entry was posted on January 24, 2011 by in Frivolities & Miscellaeny, Layla, Sports and tagged , , .
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