#7: Awkward Facing Hunchback Pose

I apologize for the delay in getting this latest post out.  It's been a busy week! Unfortunately work came between me and yoga. And as they say, when work comes calling...well, let it go to voicemail, get a few extra hours of sleep, have a nice cup of coffee with a bagel, water the plants, make sure the cat's still alive, pay some bills, get caught up on old episodes of Parks & Rec...and THEN you go to work.  

Between work trips to the Midwest and North Carolina, I did manage to knock off classes #6 & #7. Or as I will now refer to them, #horrible6 and #horrible7 (and not in a cute Twitter way).  I will cover class #6 in this post, and save class #7 for Saturday - there's just too much that needs to be analyzed and decompressed!

Crisis averted - I did decide to go back to Blissful Monkey. It was just easier, and honestly, I didn't have the time or energy during the week to research alternate choices.  Class #6, my nice, relaxing Thursday evening Iyengar class - which I had previously been enjoying - decided on this night to be a dirty pirate hooker.  My day was going fine, and I was actually looking forward to the class, and then it took a steep, terrible turn for the worse as soon as I entered the studio.   It was like getting hijacked by Somali pirates at the bottom of the Gumdrop Pass in Candyland:

I'm having a great day! Off to yoga!

Somali pirates?!!? Isn't Candyland landlocked?

 It started with the new fee per class that I now owed ($15), since my 2-week/$25 pass had expired.  Trying yoga, I've found, is great when I'm paying next to nothing.  When I'm suddenly paying $10/hour for something, it had better either fetch me coffee, or generate TPS reports for me to review - not forcing me to hold 'Plank' for a superhuman amount of time.  The only other 'reasonable' options were a 30-day pass for $110, or a 10-class pass for $140 - both of which the instructor tried to recommend for 'value'. Instead of being honest and saying, 'I'm actually just giving yoga a shot, and there's a 96% I may never even walk by a yoga studio again after class #10', I took the easy way out with an almost-complete lie and said, 'actually, I'm traveling quite a bit over the next few months and may not have the time to make it to many classes.' Great - three minutes through the door and I'm already a cheapskate and a liar.  I can usually make it an hour on most days.

On to the actual class.  My lifelong classroom strategy has always been to blend in and remain anonymous (this may date back to my kindergarten days, where being quiet and inconspicuous allowed for more shameful paste-eating time).  Being farther from the instructor has always been better, and I set up in my typical spot near the back of the studio. As I was warming up (ie, laying there), my ears perked as I overheard the instructor talking to a first-time student, who had decided to take this class during a short visit in Boston. Thankfully, New Girl decided to set up next to me in the back of the studio.  Sucker, I thought. Setting up next to me and being a horrible newbie will deflect attention off of how almost equally terrible I am - just what I need. Wrong. 

First, the instructor relocated to the back of the room (next to me) because it was roughly -10 outside, and her practice space was apparently too close to the door. More likely, she wanted to keep a closer eye on me so I didn't poison the class with anti-yoga.  There went my anonymity.  Throughout the class she helped me with poses - to a point where I felt like I was doing almost everything wrong.  To her credit, I almost certainly was; since many of the same people I started this Thursday class with were still attending each week, the class was growing progressively challenging - whereas I felt like I was not growing more flexible or otherwise showing signs of improvement. 

* * *

Side Bar: During this class, I also realized that I have two primary coping strategy poses for dealing with difficult or ambiguous yoga instructions:

1.  Awkward Facing Hunchback Pose - this is a pre-pose, and loosely resembles a few moves from Michael Jackson's Thriller dance:

The purpose of this pose is to make you as far-removed as possible from the actual ambiguous pose that you anticipate the instructor will ask.  So when the instructor says something like 'make your buttocks descend' or 'pull your hamstring closer to your bone', any movement you make towards anything out of this pose will look like progress.  Set the bar low so you can always return to somewhere in the middle. (That's not just yoga blog advice - it's also life advice. You're welcome.)

2.  Conscientious Objector Warrior Pose - This is also a pre-pose, but it's a pre-pose you do while everyone else is doing the actual pose.  What I've discovered is that instructors like to tell you to go into Downward Facing Dog or Plank AND THEN explain what you're supposed to do during or right after.  F-that, my shoulders can only take so much - 30 seconds max.  Successfully completing this pose involves getting into the required pose as slow as humanly possible to delay a significant amount of Downward Facing pain; sometimes the pose is just acting like you're establishing a more stable stance so that you can coming up out of Downward Facing Dog or Plank pose for a few moment  - to really sell this pose, sometimes you need to do a few arm rotations, while quizzically studying a classmate who seems to be demonstrating the correct pose. 

* * *

Second,  New Girl was a god-damned flexi-straw.  Yup, she probably could have fit herself within a toaster oven during her bendy warm-ups.  Thanks a lot, New Girl, you make me look like a yoga jerk.  Fast forwarding to the end of the class, I overheard her telling the instructor that she was a professional dancer and had taken a decade of ballet.  Wonderful - I had been conned by a yoga ringer.  

Needless to say, between a more difficult class from previous weeks, to frequent instructor intervention, to New Girl out-bending me, I found this the most challenging class to-date. But the worst was coming: Inversions.

Inversions, our instructor said, are regarded as an important part of yoga practice. Inversions, for those unfamiliar with yoga, are when you choose to defy gravity and everything else logical to somehow make yourself go upside down with some crazy David Blaine voodoo bullshit. Headstands and whatnot. And apparently it was the last pose the entire class was going to do before cool down.  Well, except for me.  The only types of inversions I like are apple turnovers and roller coasters, and thankfully the instructor had already planned to oblige me and provided me with a substitute pose to do against the wall which worked the same muscle group  This capped a very frustrating night.  

No lie: Yoga seems to be getting harder, not easier.  What happened to the fun, relaxing stretches that I had really enjoyed earlier in the month?  Hopefully things get better during the last 4 classes...

#6: This Isn't North Korea

This entry comes five days after making it to the midway point of my yoga goal.  Halfway there! I waited this long to post because I needed to sort some things out.

Building off an idea from my last post, I realize that I’ve gotten more out of 'beginner' yoga - or whatever you'd call yoga that is a slower pace and less ‘flowy’ or ‘hyperventilate-ey’ than Vinyasa.  I also realize that I’m a 35 year old with 117 year old hamstrings – when did that happen?  In hindsight, perhaps I should have chosen a yoga studio that practices a style of yoga more suitable for beginners.  It originally crossed my mind to start with adult education yoga, but rearranging elementary school classroom desks to create a ‘studio’ space for a yoga teacher who most likely received his/her ‘certification’ from the University of YouTube didn’t seem like it would be beneficial. I have no regrets for joining Blissful Monkey.  As a beginner, I acknowledge and accept that I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, and that there would be a learning curve as I navigate the different styles and levels of difficulty. Plus, that fricking monkey really got to me.  While I have no frame of reference with which I can compare other studios, Blissful Monkey has been a supportive environment for a newbie, and I’m happy I discovered the Incomprehensibly Gentle Yoga For Octogenarians & Pet Rocks class on Tuesday nights, and the Iyengar (descend your buttocks) yoga on Thursday nights - both of which I (gasp!)…actually look forward to.  At some point I may even attend the Restorative Yoga on Monday nights. Toward the end, I'll almost certainly need some restoration.

Now, the stuff I needed to sort out:

1)  Work travel has started back up again, and I stupidly mapped out my next two weeks on the road in such a way that I cannot make Monday or Tuesday yoga classes for the remainder of January. The obvious problem with this is that I will struggle to meet my goal of finishing 10 classes (and 10 posts) in a month.  I mean, I could – by suffering though Sunday Morning Flow classes, and by attending regular Vinyasa Flow sessions during the week.  In fact, two weeks ago, I would have happily done this; my goal at that time was quantity over quality in order to just get to 10 classes. Since starting yoga, however, I’ve learned two important things. First, yoga can be hard.  After classes which emphasize lower-body poses, I’ve woken up the next day with my calves and hamstrings very sore, similar to how I feel the following day after running several miles.  It's no fun dragging myself out of bed like a paraplegic. I’ve even been tempted to invest in a few ice packs, when my shoulder (probably only 73 years old) started to burn the night after my first class. Not knowing how my body will react - or what poses we'll be emphasizing in the class - makes planning back-to-back classes difficult.  I certainly don’t want to overdo it and risk an injury - while I'm sure getting injured during yoga should be perfectly acceptable, I'm still more concerned with hurting my pride from the admission of a yoga injury.  Second, the instructors have done excellent job impressing upon me that yoga is about maintaining a balance of the physical with the mental.  ‘Mental’ can range from pushing yourself a bit harder to get into/hold a pose, to ‘taking a knee’ midway through a pose when you feel like your hamstring is about to pop, to not doing something that otherwise makes you feel uncomfortable.  Taking more advanced yoga classes makes me uncomfortable.  I also get the sense that it makes my yoga instructors a bit uncomfortable when I attempt more advanced yoga - they're always proactively bringing over a chair or a stool to aid me through a pose.  It’s a win for all parties if I stick to beginner yoga. 

But really, the issue I'm faced with is this:  If I forgo my overarching goal of 10 posts/month-long activity and continue with only the beginner and Iyengar yoga into February, have I already failed my goal?

Answer:  Technically yes. Luckily, this isn't North Korea.  

Kim Jong Un (undoubtedly reading my blog, with military advisors)

Perhaps in North Korea, Kim Jong Un would hold me accountable to blogging ten times in a month.  But this is 'Merica, and this is my blog - I can do what I want.  When I set goals, I tend to be very black or white; very all or nothing. While I'd love to meet my initial goal, I really don't want to half-ass my yoga progress to date.  For this first month, while it pains me, I will allow myself to carry into February to maximize my yoga experience.  Curse you yoga for making me appreciate the 'process'!

2) My two-week unlimited yoga deal ends today!  Sadly, I'll be in Dayton, Ohio (blech) for my twoweekversary.  I'm sure, if I could be in Jamaica Plain to attend, they'd give me cake, maybe some small but meaningful yoga-related gift and a thoughtfully-signed card from all the instructors for making it through five classes.  While it may seem from this post that I'm going to stick it out with Blissful Monkey, let us all not forget that I am frugal to my very core.  As many of you already are aware, 'Tony Wilbur does not pay full retail price for anything', and the thought of paying $15 for each class moving forward is a bit difficult to swallow.  The only saving grace is that I just won $150 in a Golden Globes betting pool (thanks for your donations, suckas!), which would offset the cost nicely.  I am tempted to search out other first-timer deals, but I don't want to be 'the guy that searches out promotional yoga deals to write a blog ' - If such a guy (other than me) exists. Should I switch?

Pros of Staying With Blissful Monkey:

- Location

- Instructors

- That fricking monkey!

Cons of Staying With Blissful Monkey

- $15??!!!

- Not being able to experience other types of yoga

Pros of A New Yoga Place:

- Potentially cheaper new deal!

- New types of yoga with new instructor(s)

- A potentially bigger space

Cons of A New Yoga Place:

- Change, as we all know, is awful

- Location

- Everything could undoubtedly be shittier
- Evil yoga instructors (with eyepatches and goatees)

Answer:  Undecided (Stay tuned while I do research and weigh my options).

*   *   *

Thanks to all of you who have shared your support for this project - either in the form of 'likes', Facebook messages, in-person comments, or simply by your continued reading.  I am a bit surprised and overwhelmed (in a good way) by the amount of random messages I've received from people with whom I rarely communicate.  Apparently some people have even gone so far as to call this 'inspiring'?Thanks for taking the time to pass along your kind words (and I wish we communicated more).

I have also added a 'share' link to the right side if you are so inclined.  Apparently you can customize these things?  Unlike in North Korea.

#5: 'Alcohol is How I Stretch Out'

Classes #3 and #4 are complete.  40% of the way to the finish line. 

Getting out of bed at 8:30am on a Sunday is like getting up at 5am on any other day.  Awful.  I had no idea the sun rose before 11am on Sundays. While I could have attended an afternoon yoga class, any session I chose would have overlapped the NFL playoff games, which would have been even more unthinkable.    Plus, I thought I might get off the hook easy with the 'Sunday Morning Flow' class. 

The only benefit of getting up so god-forsakenly early on a Sunday is the multitude of parking options in downtown Jamaica Plain.  Apparently no else one thinks being up and about that early on a Sunday is a great idea either.  While parking my car, I thought about how warm my bed must have still been, and how I hadn't allotted enough time before leaving my apartment to down my morning french press of coffee; the whole beans were mocking me from inside their bag in the fridge.  

Blissful Monkey's 'Sunday Morning Flow' class is described on their website: 

Begin your Sunday morning with a gentle warm-up and gradually build to a steady, moderate-paced flow. Attention is focused on breath and alignment. This is a challenging class that will leave you refreshed and ready to begin your week. Suitable for all levels.

The only 'flow' in this description is the steady stream of bullshit making this class sound like it would be a walk in the park - this class was by far the hardest.  The class was comprised of mostly middle-aged people who must have had nothing better to do on a Sunday morning, and a few younger people who probably confused the yoga studio for their bedroom during a sleepwalking episode.  Our instructor, while proficient and smiley like the others, quickly announced that she was a hands-off instructor.  Strangely, I had really come to appreciate someone physically manipulating my body into the correct posture; apparently listening to instructors and watching fellow classmates successfully do the poses wasn't enough - I needed physical intervention, and this became apparent within the first 5 minutes of class.  From the start, we were blowing through poses faster than that no-talent ass-clown Shia LaBeouf blows through plagiarized apologies on Twitter. (Seriously what's up with that guy? Congratulations Shia, according to recent photos you're half a mustache and 37 shitty new age albums short of morphing into Yanni):

Seriously, am I the only one who sees the resemblance?

Anyway, my point is that the yoga was 'flowing' quite fast, and without personalized instruction or correction.  Whatever I was doing, I was doing it rapidly, and most likely with no actual resemblance to yoga.  

To make matters worse, somewhere between the point of complete exhaustion and the end of the class, I made the observation that my toenails were in desperate need of a trimming.  I'm really not sure how they got to the point of 'you've just awoken from a coma' length, but I suddenly became hypervigilant to the fact that perhaps everyone in the class had already noticed my claw-feet.  No doubt this is exactly what people wandering in a desert without water experience, and it was all I could do to get to the final 'child's pose' and subsequent nap time.  

Class #3 was complete, and with it a less favorable view of yoga.  Can't say I'll ever do this level of yoga again.  Sunday Flow can suck it.  

*   *   *

For the fourth class, my goal had been to show up to the Restorative Yoga session on the next day, Monday.  After Sunday's class, I needed it - if not to restore me physically, then to restore at least a little bit of my pride.  All throughout the day on Monday, however, I continued to feel more and more run down, and decided to take a day off to recharge. 

I barely made class #4 on Tuesday (Impossibly Gentle Yoga For Inanimate Objects & Corpses).  I need to make all of my connections after work perfectly to be at the yoga studio with enough time to check-in, change, and set up my yoga station.  I missed the train I needed to take by about 30 seconds, and so I caught the dolling one five minutes later and had to jog in a semi-downpour to the studio from the Green Street T stop - which is about 7-8 minutes away.  I made it with about a minute to spare.

I'm glad I did.  Bec (my favorite instructor so far) brought back my faith in my ability to at least act like I'm doing yoga.  She has a very calm and affable presence, with a voice that should be broadcasting human interest segments on NPR.  Since there were a lot of familiar faces from the first beginner's class a week ago, Bec made this session slightly more challenging to build off of the level of difficulty from the first one.  As the class went along, Bec was also more comfortable instructing me, as she had no problem either (gently) calling me out from across the room if I was doing something that grossly violated the nature of yoga, or physically helping me to correct poses.

I learned quite a bit about myself, and about yoga, over these two starkly-different classes.  First, everything about Sunday morning yoga is terrible.  It should be banned - hopefully Marty Walsh has this on his agenda.  Second, a more challenging yoga class doesn't necessarily mean a more challenging level of yoga for the individual yogi; if I can only successfully complete a handful of poses in a more challenging level of yoga, then how am I actually challenging myself?  I realized that I actually gain more out of a slightly more advanced level of beginner yoga, because I can complete almost every pose and push myself as hard as my body will allow in each one.   

I was feeling so good about myself on the way home from class #4 that, while boarding the 39 bus, I completely ignored the inner voice that was telling me not to sit so close to the grizzled, older gentleman with the Gilligan hat on and the dagger tattoos on his cheeks - I could sense him eyeing the yoga mat that was protruding from my backpack as I walked down the aisle past his seat.  I had a feeling that he would engage me in conversation as soon as I sat down, and I was right:

Face-Tattooed Gentleman: Hey, you doing yoga!?

Me: Yeah. (trying to act disinterested in the conversation. Not working.)

FTG: I did yoga down in South Boston. You do it around here?

Me: Yeah, downtown JP.

FTG: You like it?

Me: Yeah, except I'm not really flexible.

FTG: You look flexible.

Me: Thanks (Not sure what else to say when a gentleman with dagger face tattoos issues this compliment).

FTG: How old are you? 32?

Me: 35

FTG: Yeah, I liked my yoga classes in South Boston.  I did it when I was half your age. The instructor was nice (rolls eyes) and gorgeous. A lot of beautiful ladies in that class. 

Me: Huh.

FTG: Alcohol is how I stretch out now (loud laugh at his own joke).  'Acute alcoholism' is what they put on the chart.  I use it all to stretch out: alcohol, drugs, pills - I like to have a good time.  That's where I'm going right now!

Me: Huh.

FTG: Do you drink? You don't, do you?

Me: Oh no, I don't (felt like this was the appropriate thing to say to a self-described 'acute alcoholic'.  Also trying to avoid an invitation to the worst party imaginable.  Happy that he inferred from yoga that I maintained a healthy lifestyle, so that I didn't have to come up with an excuse).

Bus mercifully arrives at the Forest Hills T stop.  

TG: Well, it was nice chatting!  Off to have fun!

Me: Have fun.

In addition to the great feeling I got upon completion of class #4, according to the Face-Tattooed Gentleman with acute alcoholism, I 'look flexible'.  I call that progress.

#4: Make Sure Your Buttocks Are Descending

With one of ten classes under my belt, I was feeling pretty good about myself.  I had emerged a yoga survivor, had beaten the Blissful Monkey.  Granted, it was me and a class of 57 year olds in an 'Inexplicably Gentle Yoga For Coma Patients & Other Invalids' class, but still - I had been challenged and had definitely broken a sweat. There was no judgement, and the instructor, Bec, had been so supportive that it somehow didn't matter that I could only hold 17% of the poses as demonstrated.

With #1 complete, I turned my attention to #2 (heh heh). I really liked the beginner's class, but it was unfortunately only offered once a month at Blissful Monkey; luckily, it had been offered the night of my first session. I had really hoped to take a few more practice swings before moving up to a greater level of difficulty.  The January schedule did provide a few different options that worked well with my schedule:

Fingers crossed they have 'cat & cat owner yoga' next month!

I know what you're thinking: Where was I going to find a baby for the 'Mom & Baby Yoga' or the 'Kindermusik'?  Well, I'm going to have to stop you right there.  Unfortunately those sessions were mid-day, and I couldn't be away from the office for that long.  Plus, no moms responded to my Craigslist ad.

Instead, I opted for a very distant Plan C: the Iyengar class. The Blissful Monkey website describes this class as teaching 'students the classic yoga postures (asanas) with precise instruction and attention to alignment'.  Even more important, the website also indicated that this class was suitable for students new to yoga.  So this class was destined to be #2. Let's do this, Monkey!

When I arrived at Thursday's class, I noticed that there were about 25% fewer students in this class than the beginner class earlier in the week.  I recognized three or four faces from Tuesday, but everyone else was new to me - including the instructor.  I would miss Bec, and hoped that Nadja would be just as good. The average age of the class was probably closer to 45 this time. I set up shop in the back of the class, to be a little bit more anonymous (last week I showed up just before the class started, and had to situate right next to the instructor in the crowded studio), and to have a better line of sight to observe each pose demonstrated by the instructor.  Next to me, setting up a fancy leopardskin-patterned mat, was a gentleman who I will now refer to as 'Chad' - my new yoga nemesis.

Chad, as pointed out by my good friend Brandon, is the ultimate nemesis name. Think about it - can you identify anything or anyone good named Chad? 

Examples:

Haven't heard much from Chad Lowe recently? Who cares.

Welcome to the White House, Mr Bush.
You can thank Florida for being an idiot.

Chad Johnson hated his name so much he changed it to a number.

One of the poorest and most corrupt countries in the world.

Just uttering the name 'Chad' makes you an angrier, more hate-filled person. Chad is the slow-moving guy in front of you on the sidewalk who you just can't get around. Chad is that girl ahead of you at the bus stop who doesn't have her pass ready when the bus arrives. And Chad is that guy who always yells 'Freebird' at a concert. Brandon's Chad is the pace-keeping device he uses when he runs.   His goal is to never let Chad beat him in a run, whether he's doing a casual run or a road race.  In my case, the Chad next to me was a bit of a yoga loose cannon.  When we started, he seemed to have an air of confidence about him, and so I thought he would be safe to emulate since he was next to me.  Wrong.  As soon as Nadja announced the next pose, he would start doing it before she explained how to get into it.  And his pose looked almost nothing like what Nadja was doing.  Douche.

The theme of this class was clearly 'make sure your buttocks are descending'.  I think Nadja referenced buttocks at least 50 times - which is fine - except I had no idea how to make them descend. Or pull them to the floor.  Or whatever other action she wanted my buttocks to take.  They've always just kinda been there, and I don't have much control over them.   I'll bet Chad thought he knew how to make his buttocks descend.  I also had no idea how to move certain muscles 'toward the bone' they were connected to.  These were all nonsense instructions to me.  

The pace and difficulty of this class was less intense than the first class - but we were more focused this time on individual poses than making them all 'flow' together.  Chad was focused on being Awesome Chad - surprisingly, Nadja never really offered suggestions or otherwise interacted with him.  Can't say that I blame her. He was also an obnoxiously load breather.  The ongoing frustration I had was not being able to connect the verbal instructions with the action I'm supposed to take.  If you mention more than five body parts in ten seconds, as well as throw in two or three body part actions,  my brain is going to overheat and freeze.  At one point, Nadja politely suggested that I sit a pose out after I could not grasp what I was supposed to do. Due to my lack of flexibility, she also gave me a stool to use for some of the poses.  Not a problem - I'd rather have my pride hurt than my burlap hamstring.

Overall, it was a good class. After two classes I feel much more confident in what I'm doing, although the lack of flexibility and inability to get the poses correct is still frustrating.  I also think that anyone with short arms and legs (like myself) will automatically struggle, regardless of how flexible he or she is.  There was also no focus on inhaling and exhaling in the class, which I found during the first class to be extremely hard to maintain while holding poses. I have a feeling that this is a topic that will be a challenge in class #3 and beyond.

Finally, it got a little dicey when I discovered a clock hidden in a shadowed corner in the back of the room - this may make the next eight 90-minute classes feel like 3-hour classes.  

Next class, Sunday morning!

#3: Downward Facing Slob

(Warning: This blog entry contains a level of profanity that most first-time yogis will find completely acceptable)

Done. Finished. Class 1 of 10 complete. But before I get into that...

When I first made the resolution to complete 10 classes this month,  I knew the initial step was to decide upon a yoga studio.  But where? Judging by the number of yoga mat shoulder slings that errantly whack me in the face while I'm commuting home from work on the Orange Line, I knew that there must be at least a couple studios in my neighborhood.  A quick Yelp search confirmed that.  I've since learned that, like Starbucks in Seattle, or Dunkin Donuts right here in Boston, in Jamaica Plain you can often see another yoga studio down the road from in front of the studio where you're currently standing.

I knew I needed to find a studio as close to work and home as possible, as this would increase my chances of completing the challenge by 1000%.  With this as my primary criterion, through Yelp, the finalists ended up being Akasha Studio (Rated #1) and Blissful Monkey Yoga Studio (Rated #2). Both had similar ratings. Which did I choose?  Their logo is a hint:

I like the cut of your jib,  blissful monkey!

They had me at 'adorable monkey smelling a flower'. Plus, how hard could yoga endorsed by a monkey be? After seeing this, I really didn't dig too deep into Akasha Studio, especially when I uncovered a sweet first-timer deals on the Blissful Monkey Studio website.  As luck would have it, they also had a Gentle Yoga For Beginners class happening the following day (Tuesday) - this was exactly what I was looking for to not completely hate the first class. Blissful Monkey, let's do this!

Through Yelp and the Blissful Monkey Studio website, I learned that the type of yoga the studio primarily practices is called vinyasa.  For those of you who need a brush-up on Sanskrit, I believe the loose English translation is 'not so fast, tubby' - at least that's my press ion of it.  If you need something less anecdotal, the 'Lulumon' website describes it: 

Vinyasa means"breath-synchronized movement," and Vinyasa yoga is a series of poses that will move you through the power of inhaling and exhaling. Vinyasa movements are smoothly flowing and almost dance-like, which explains why it is sometimes referred to as Vinyasa Flow or just Flow.

Somehow I feel like vinyasa and I will never be tight to the point where I refer to it as 'just Flow'.

Prepping the night before was easy. Seeing as I own no spandex garments (shock!), I opted for gym shorts and shirt with an alpaca on it.  I imagined that the alpaca and the blissful monkey would be in complete harmony as I lay writhing on the floor from a stretch gone gruesomely awry.  My roommate Whitney loaned me her yoga mat - a quick inspection confirmed that yes, vomit, blood, and sweat (and maybe urine - you never know) could be easily hosed off, with her not being the wiser. 

The studio itself was much smaller than I imagined - just one cramped room in a building off of Center Street - the main drag in Jamaica Plain.  The instructor (for the purpose of this blog, I will refer to her simply as 'Bec'...because that was her name) greeted me warmly with a smile and a liability waiver.  Yikes - did I accidentally sign up for full-contact yoga?

A quick survey of the crowded space contradicted my initial musings from yesterday - about half were male, mostly all were middle-aged.  From Bec's comments regarding the unusually large size of the class, I gathered that we were mostly comprised of 'resolutionites', myself included.  As I was setting up my mat in a carefully selected spot (between two people that clearly seemed more out of shape than I was), Bec came around with props - 2 foam blocks, a blanket and a nylon strap.  Clearly not your parents' yoga (although I'm pretty sure my parent's yoga would have included meat, potatoes, Miller Lite, Law & Order, and no yoga), and I was anxious to see during what horribly painful poses they would be applied.

To best chronicle the event, I'm going to provide a rough time stamp, followed by what I was doing and thinking (in italics)*:

6:00 - Breathing exercises 

This is awesome! Breathing is great and yoga is great!  10 classes will be a breeze!

6:10 - Class quickly devolves into 'child's pose' and 'downward facing dog'

Uh, this is OK, but can we get back to breathing? This is a beginner class, right?

6:15 - Planking(?) is introduced, combined with previous poses

Pushups in yoga? Shit, vinyasa is pushup yoga!

6:20 - Poses involving face-down back arches and whatnot - instructor comes around to correct pose

Jesus, how can I see the instructor's pose if my face is on the mat! It's gotta be at least 6:45 by now. I wonder how my yoga neighbor is doing. Probably better than me.

6:25 - Foam bricks are introduced...and lunges - more instructor help to correct posture.

This isn't so bad...is this the cool down? I still can't see the pose if you're behind me. What am I going to have for dinner?

6:35 - Rocking on back/spine - much, much more intense back arches/pose holding - more instructor assistance

Holy fuck this hurts! Someone...punch...me....unconcious. Can't...quit...now. How can I inhale or exhale properly if I'm too focused on trying not to die? What's the refund policy? I STILL CAN'T SEE YOU IN ORDER TO DO THIS POSE SOME GODDAMNED JUSTICE!!!!

6:45 - On-the-side arm-pull stretches (accidentally judo chops yoga neighbor when sweaty grip releases)

Finally the cool down! Good merciful Jesus...did my shoulder catch fire?

6:50 - Various nylon belt leg stretches

Props - this is the Carrot Top of yogas.  Heh heh.  What time is it? Have we gone over time?

FUCKING FOREVER - Painful fucking strange standing on tip-toes, arched, tautly balanced!

I will not cry I will not cry I will not cry...so much ouchouchouch! CANT SEE POSE WHEN I'M FUCKING STANDING ON MY TIP TOES TRYING NOT TO CRY!!!

7:05 - Gentle back arches, using rolled blanket in small of back.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I wonder if I can catch the 39 bus back to my apartment?

7:10 - QUIET NAP TIME

Wow, made it.

* Please note that everything that occurred after the 'planking' pose at 6:15 is a complete blur.  Events may be distorted, out of order, or blatantly misrepresented.

Observations

- Breathing properly in yoga is really hard, especially if you do not know the poses.  And it's really hard to learn the poses if you are face down on a mat, or face up staring at the ceiling, or lying on your side away from the instructor.  This is going to take some time - as a beginner, I felt out of sync the whole time.

- It's was hard to clear my mind of the mental countdown until the end of the class.

- Another point I was wrong about: Yoga is not necessarily a group activity - while it's done in a group, everyone approaches the activity as an individual. The mat could be seen as both a literal and figurative island.  It's also really hard to judge how you're doing in relation to you neighbor, because you're too busy looking up at the ceiling, down at the mat, or with your eyes closed. Definitely a good thing, because I would have scared off a few people who caught sight of my beached whale flopping.

- How do you keep your ass from hanging out of your shorts?  I spent half the class readjusting.  No wonder there are corporations dedicated to yoga clothes.  Maybe I should invent yoga suspenders. Yo-spenders? Suspen-gas? Work in progress.

- Despite how short my legs are, I STILL HAVE TROUBLE TOUCHING THE FLOOR WITHOUT BENDING MY KNEES??!? I am not flexible.

- Bec was great, very supportive and encouraging in a low-key way.  Props to her for somehow learning everyone's names during the class.

- I feel better about this than I did yesterday. Don't think I'm turning all squishy just yet - I'm leaving the door open to the fact that yoga could still be the worst thing on earth - especially since there are no more beginner class crutches.

1 down, 9 to to go. Next class, Thursday...

#2: Yoga Is A Four-Letter Word

Today is the big day.  I hardly slept last night thinking about how much I would hate my 90-minutes of yoga.  90 minutes.  That's roughly three times as long as the total amount of time I have spent stretching in my life.  I'm not even sure I'll be able to make it to the half-time coffee break.  There is a half-time in yoga, right?

(Disclaimer: I have tried Bikram yoga twice - about 10 years ago.  For those of you who don't know what Bikram yoga is, it the kind where you spend 90 minutes in a 270 degree room trying not do hyperventilate to death in a puddle of your own sweat and tears.  I lasted 37 minutes the first time and almost a full hour the second.)

A bit of background when it comes to Tony + exercise:  I do enjoy sport, mostly tennis and whatever random pickup game happens to be self-organizing at the time. Short of intramural volleyball in high school, an overachieving college indoor soccer league, a solo cup softball league, and a summer kickball league half a decade ago (12 minutes of actual kickball, 5 1/2 hours of flipcup at a nearby dive bar), I have never really participated in a group athletic activity. Since college, I have attempted to prioritize exercise and health, but there is also the occasional entire bag of Doritos that gets prioritized - along with a HotPocket or three - which turns my efforts into a zero-sum game. Exercise is not an imperative in my life, in the way that some people need it to feel balanced and to relieve stress, and as a result I've had to work hard not to forget to incorporate it into my weekly routine.  Otherwise, I'm typically the guy who takes the escalator over the stairs every single time.  In fact, if the escalator had an escalator, I'd take that as well.

Up to this point, running is the only form of consistent exercise I've been able to maintain.  I've been into casual running since college and have even been cajoled by friends into running two or three 5Ks. I'm drawn to it because I can do it any time I want, anywhere I want, and it's easy to set goals against previous benchmarks.  While it can be monotonous, it can be varied with pace, incline, scenery - and music. Also, it's a solitary form of exercise, and I've discovered that I'm basically like the Gollum of joining and participation.  If they gave out non-participation ribbons, I wouldn't get one because I wouldn't be there to receive it.  I'm not sure why I've always been like this, but it's probably a combination of impatience, insecurity, and introversion.

Enter yoga.  As I mentioned before, many people who I hold in high esteem espouse yoga and all of it's benefits, and so I thought it was worth a shot.    Plus, it's easier to make fun of something if I come from a more credible position of experience.   Preconceived notions notwithstanding, I've already identified a few challenges I'm going to face, and perhaps you have too:

First, it's a new activity.  New things, as we all know, are dreadful.  I only hope I can make it to the point where it's no longer new, and perhaps make it feel a bit less awful.  I guess I have to, or I'm an asshole for writing this blog and getting everyone's hopes up.  While it's not always easy, I try to live a life where trying something new always wins over any lingering fears, doubts or uncertainties.  I've embraced this philosophy with traveling and new food (among other things), but it's tends to be a bit different when....

....Second, it's a group activity.  Blech (that's the horrible sound of unwanted human interaction).  On the bright side, committing to 10 classes may force me to accept the 'group process'.  It's the path of least resistance...and the alternative is fearing each class. It's always somehow been a bit harder for me to participate in a group activity in my own neighborhood than it is to, say, hang out in a bar by myself in Reykjavik, or spend a weekend by myself exploring New Orleans.  I guess that's just the way I'm hardwired?

Third, I have no idea what I'm doing.  I usually won't approach activities without a fair amount of competency, or at the very least I do extensive initial research before I attempt any task - whether it's buying a new stock, tying a bow tie, getting a new gym membership or planning a vacation.  Yoga seems to be one of those activities that you can't gain expertise from through a 45 second YouTube clip; it's as much about the process as it is the poses.  This, coupled with each individual strain of yoga -and the etiquette of each individual studio - makes for difficult preparation.  I don't even really know what to wear, but I hope it's not exclusively spandex - no one wants to see this in that.  I'll focus on finding the entrance to the studio first, and then cautiously bumble my way through everything else after.

Fourth, and probably most controversial, I wonder if the perceived and actual values and merits of yoga are divided along sex/gender lines.  While I can think of dozens of women who regularly practice yoga, I can think of almost no men who do so.  On a superficial level, I can certainly draw parallels to the study abroad field within which I work - also dominated by women.  Is this even a worthwhile activity for me to attempt - and are the rewards worth the effort - if my benchmarks for enjoying an activity vary drastically from the 'typical' female yogi?  While I have no intention of researching this or drawing major (and probably mostly uneducated) conclusions from 10 classes, it's definitely an interesting point to consider.

Fifth, I'm not flexible. At all.  Bricks are more flexible than I am.  In my two feeble attempts at Bikram yoga, this was a major discouragement.  While I have been reassured that yoga increases flexibility, it's disappointing to not be able to attempt some of the poses.

Off to class now.  I feel like it's my first day of kindergarten!  If I remember correctly, I took a 90 minute nap on a comfy mat on that day as well...

#1: Welcome! & I Apologize in Advance...

I had no intention of creating a blog when I woke up this morning.  My mornings are usually reserved for more important intentions, like feeding my cat, brewing coffee, checking my fantasy football lineup, and ranting about the MBTA.  I have, however, considered starting one for a while now; in fact, as I learned this very evening by visiting Blogger.com to start blogging for the very first time ever,  I apparently attempted to start one in September 2010 - it has now been mercifully edited over. I don't know what is more disconcerting: that I horribly half-assed my first blog entry ever, or that I couldn't remember that I horribly half-assed my first blog entry ever, just over 3 years prior.

I imagine that the #1 reason why people want to blog but then never follow through is because they can never come up with a central theme or subject to carry them from post to post.  Such was my case (as demonstrated by the previously-mentioned horribly half-assed first attempt). That has now been changed, thanks to a beautiful confluence of events, all stimulated by an especially pleasant shower (where I happen to do 85% of my thinking and planning):

Event 1:  It's a New Year.  With each New Year comes a fresh new start.

Event 2: I went on a family Christmas cruise.  After gorging myself to near-death on a limitless buffet of Norwegian Cruise Line chicken fingers, as a matter of survival I have entered into a three-way weight-loss competition with my dad and brother.  No way I'm going to let myself lose this. There's pride on the line. And 100 dollars.

Event 3: Combining events #1 and #2, I was looking for a new exercise to complement running every other day, which would keep me active for a full week (to maximize weight loss and minimize losing 100 dollars).

Event 4: Because so many people in my life who I regard very highly have endorsed yoga, I decided to give it a shot.  Also, I'm no where near a rock-climbing gym (option #1). But still.

Event 5: My yoga studio of choice (let's face it, the one most convenient to work and home) issues a 2 week/10 pass first-timer deal for $25.

In the shower, all of these events came together.  Initially I was going to use a blog to hold myself accountable to just showing up to yoga, but shit, its a new year!  Why not keep this idea going and try something new each month (specifically, do the same type of activity 10 times in one month) and blog about it? Ultimately, this is going to mean 12 new activities over 12 months, with a minimum of 120 posts (did I do the math right?)

My goals for blogging:

1.  As mentioned, hold myself accountable.  Mostly to getting through 10 classes of yoga, and then we'll deal with whatever after. Jesus, I'm already regretting this.

2.  Prod myself to get out to try new activities throughout Boston and beyond.  I already have great ideas for February and March.  Stay tuned.

3.  Have a creative outlet.  While it's fun posting snarky and sarcastic comments on Facebook, it's also somewhat limiting.  Now I have a much broader range for snark and sarc.

4.  Become a better, more disciplined writer.  I haven't really focused on writing anything outside of roughly 140 characters since grad school, so this is a welcome exercise.

5.  Organize my thoughts around each central theme and become more thoughtful in my approach and in substance.  I have no idea what material I can possibly mine out of 10 yoga classes, but we're about to find out.

6.  Take a journey of self-discovery through the magic of the writing process. Just kidding.  Heh.

7.  Make every attempt possible to not sound as lame as 1-5, and be awesome like 6.

Here we go on this magical ride.  Look for my next post tomorrow, if I survive yoga. Or show up. Heh.