When I first heard about yoga once upon a time, I started calling it “yogurt.”  Not because I was too young to know better, but I was probably too immature to prefer calling it by its real name.  I used to do that during high school- give things different names or even baby names just because I felt like it.  (Who am I kidding, I still do that sometimes.) When yoga first started “getting big,” I, like many of my peers at the time, thought it was a silly frou-frou “sport” that housewives and rich people did because it was easy.  And then I watched ten minutes of that movie where Madonna plays a yoga instructor (The Next Best Thing?) and there’s that one scene where her soon-to-be love interest tries to join her yoga class and ends up failing, sweaty, and complete with new respect for yoga.  And that is probably when I began thinking that maybe yoga isn’t as easy as we all thought it was.

I’m not all hot into yoga culture or anything, but I first gave it a try at the local YMCA when my family still had a membership and then got more into it when I got a 29 day passes to a ritzy local gym via Groupon.  There was this one instructor who taught classes that I started going to regularly- his name was Danny.  He was one of those sun-bleached blonde weathered-looking tall lanky dudes who I imagined spent all of his time surfing, eating granola, and walking around barefoot.  Well, except for the fact that he taught these mean yoga classes that made me sweat buckets and left me feeling great.  So I went out and bought myself a mat and did some practice at home for a while, but all too soon, my 29 day passes ran out.  And then I decided I was too busy- and then when I had more time, too poor- to take yoga classes.

Enter exercise.tv on hulu.com a few weeks ago.  I did their 20-minute routines a few times, and then had the quite belated idea to search youtube, where some folks have full yoga workouts online.  Score! Free yoga!  I do miss having classmates, big mirrors, and a real instructor nearby to correct my poses, but uh… free is sort of hard to beat.  Plus I can have “yoga class” whenever I want- say, like even at 10pm.

Anyhow, it’s pretty great and now I feel like I am taking care of myself again.  You know, after eating pulled pork, just SEEing the amount of butter we put into the cornbread, and oh… eating strawberries on the couch dipped in leftover mascarpone whipped cream with semisweet chocolate bits (you read that right- it’s DELICIOUS!), I thought it was high time that I try to do something to counteract the impending ah… ballooning? pre-intern-15? that is coming my way.

Okay, so the actual point of this is that I am proud of myself and bragging because I can finally do a full sun salutation with like, a real full Chaturanga.  (I apologize if my terminology sucks.  I am still very n00b.)  The first time I saw Danny walk us through it- “Okay now from down-dog, go forward and down- forehead-nose-chin-chest… good… into up-dog” I gave it a try and once I tried to put weight on my triceps, I just went “plunk!” and chest slammed into the floor.  But tonight, on a whim, I gave it a go, and MAGICALLY… it like… worked.

Anyways, that is all.  But it’s nice to know that I’m going somewhere with this and maybe getting a little stronger. Hopefully this will help tremendously when we start moving boxes and furniture everywhere- ahhhh moving!

A

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