The reluctant draggin’

I had three things going against me yesterday as I reluctantly entered my yoga class.  Number 1:  Last week was Thanksgiving (that goes without explanation), Number 2: I missed yoga the week before, and Number 3: my pants were too tight (refer back to number one).

Dawn, a bright warm name for a yoga instructor, said for us to lie on our back and pull our reluctant pelvis to the floor.  Boy, she had that right, everything on me was reluctant, even the stretch fabric of my pants.

I weebled and wobbled as I attempted to move from Warrior II position to Warrior III position to Half Moon in a single flowing bound.  I moved, not so seemlessly from Wobbly Woman I position to Wobbly Woman II position.  I grabbed the waist band of my pants before Half Moon position became Full Moon.  I heard Andree’s knees creek.  I think she needed WD-40.  Janice stumbled out of hold as everyone faced in her direction.  Normally the class sighs and feels a twinge of empathy for a fallen comrade, but not Stretchy Janice.  She’s the envy of every yogi.  She can do pretzel bends.  I hoped no one realized I’d let out a big swoosh, the “deep yoga breath” as Dawn calls it, and that’s when she fell.  Mariah is our youngest member.  Everything on her looks taunt.  I can make two of her just in skin and years.  Michael is the only guy in our class.  His holds are spot-on, steady and rock solid.

There he was standing in one of those phenomenal holds.  “You know how your stomach cramps up,” he said, “when you’ve exercised it too much?”

Andree and I looked and one another and held up our arms, shrugging our shoulders.  “No,” we said, in unison.  We had no idea what he meant. 

Dawn, half way through class, began to feel more like the morning sun, glaring in my face.  “Pull your core tight.” 

I tried, honestly, tried.  But nothing happened around my midsection.  Nothing tightened.  “Not enough core for balance, huh?” she commented.

“Thanks,” I replied.  I was excited.  Before that comment I’d always thought I had too much core.

As the morning dawn peeked in my window today, I lifted my legs manually one by one out of bed and sat each foot on the floor.  William Faulkner once said, “Given the experience between pain and nothing, I would choose pain.”  He never meant Dawn.  I love yoga. 

Related posts:

1. What’s an imbalanced person like me doing yoga?
2. Purple crayons
3. Going out on klutz leave
4. Exercise overdose
5. You won’t believe it