That time I did yoga...

Let me preface this post by saying that Koreans are freakishly flexible.  Like, bend their head between their legs while standing up flexible, and somehow they're still smiling.  Needless to say, when entering the yoga room, I was way out of my league. 

        To begin, I did intend for myself to turn into an aforementioned insanely bendy Asian by the time I was done with this class.  I will forewarn you that this did not happen, but here's what did.  I walked into the dimly lit room, mats were laid out, so I picked my spot and began my pre-stretch.  You know, the ones that you lazily do just to make it look like you know what you're doing.  One of my newly acquainted friends was in the room, so as I was "stretching," I timidly announced to her how nervous and inflexible I am.  She, being of the unnaturally flexible Asian ethnic group, tells me she believes in me.  So naive.  The instructor walked in and my friend tells her something in Korean as she's pointing me, and they both giggle.  That was reassuring.  The class began and the first thing I notice is the Britney Spears song playing in the background.  Ok, I can dig, I thought.  Mind you, the lady teaching spoke in complete Korean the entire time, so the American songs she played were comforting, even if it was "Britney bitch."  The lady had us sitting on the floor Indian style, only the more bendy, contraption-y version.  I accomplished this and felt progress had been made.  Then, after a few semingly easy moves, she creates a perfect triangle with her body, having her feet planted on the ground and her hands stretched out in front and her bootay in the air.  We were to mimick her.  I looked more like a rainbow than a triangle, but it's all about the process, right?  From this position, she begins twisting and turning her body in ways only octopus legs should move.  All along, I'm trying my hardest to recreate the position with my stiff American muscles.  We went from simple movements, to ahh hell no movements in minutes.  I began sweating, and not because I was working hard, but because I knew everyone was watching me look like someone playing Twister without all the colored dots.  You know how in class if a teacher notices you're doing something wrong and she lightly taps you on the shoulder before she ever so nicely tell you that you've messed up enirely?  Well, let's just say I got something wrong, a lot.  If my butt was down enough, my legs weren't straight.  If my back was arched perfectly, then you better believe my squatting dog looked like a preying cheetah.  Without saying a word, she would manuever my body in the direction it needed to be.  This was both sad and unnerving.  I don't know about you, but my body doesn't like being touched when it's sweating, okayyy!?!  At one point, I did notice something quite profound about myself--I need a pedicure in a bad way.  Maybe even just a nice scrub would do them a world of a difference, just something!  I probably should have been focusing on watching the instructor, but again, it's all about the process, people.  As I started hoping more and more that the class would just be over already, she went to turbo mode.  If it hadn't been for R. Kelly singing "World's Greatest" in the background, I would have gone splitville on that class.  When he sang, "I'm that star up in the sky," you better believe I was singing that song to myself.  I was the shiny star up in that sky, and I knew I could get my leg higher and my back arched even more.  I was going to survive.  And I was going to be extremely sore the next day.  As my groove for this whole relaxing your body through tormenting muscle flexing exercises reached its climax, it was time for cool down.  Oh, the inevitable.  Once I untangled my body, I contemplated going home and practicing, but the fridge caught my eye.  I do have to say that yoga is hard core, and generally meant for super tiny Asian people and not stalky Americans.  So, of course, I'll be going back next week!


Stay true, stay real.
H.