Bad Dog II

I don't know how much I enjoyed my first yoga class but I did enjoy how I felt afterwards so this morning I took another class. Taught by a different instructor and surrounded by different (yet still less chunkier than I) people but that wasn't the only thing different. I came prepared! I had a crocheted headband and funky, new agey yoga mat with matching carrying case. Yeah, I'm the stuff. I am into Yoga!

Then the class started.

I proudly unfurled my new mat. Eww. It still smelled of that funky new rubber smell. I had aired it out but obviously not enough. Every stretch and pose that brought my face close to my mat had to kill brain cells. I was beginning to wonder if I was going to make it through class without a contact high.

This session was much more difficult. I was introduced to stretches that not only seemed impossible but likely to be illegal in the more Southern conservative states. The instructor did not just calmly call out poses and directions from her mat at the front of the room. She walked around and gave encouragement or correction. Some of the poses such as warrior, child and chair were included but there were other elements that I have still blocked out at this time.

Perhaps after psychotherapy I will remember what exactly I was doing to have all the muscles in my legs quaking. Seriously, my legs were shaking like cellulite driven jackhammers. After class I was completely fatigued and refreshed at the same time. Almost how you feel after a good cry. Red faced, snotty , worn out but yet relieved.

As I walked over to where I had laid my belongings I seriously considered not bending over to retrieve them but to just go to the store to buy new things when my legs were working again.