LIVING LIFE

Those of you who read my first post regarding yoga already know that I was unsure about trying this new activity. This post is about what happened when I made the decision to attend a yoga class.

It is no secret to my friends and family that the only exercise I do is walking. Just walking- I am not one of those people who swing their arms in giant circles and appear to be warding off anything within five feet of their bodies. After a fair amount of deliberation, including asking the yoga staff many questions, I made the decision to attend a yoga class. My inner 70-year- old voice warned me that this was probably not going to be a stellar experience, but my inner illogical child encouraged me to try it.

The bottom line is that I lasted fifteen minutes, which includes ten minutes of watching everyone else and trying to figure out how they got their bodies to do contortion-like stretches. So basically I did some form of yoga for a whopping five minutes. Factor in the lack of space between people (strike one), the 88 degree temperature (strike two), and the rapid-fire instructions (strike three), and you get the picture.

After reaching my home, I quickly changed out of my “yoga” clothes and proceeded to eat multiple cookies (once again thank you inner illogical child).

In my world, Namaste translates to goodbye yoga.

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