Killing the Laughing Hyena

A couple nights ago I did my first ever yoga class. My previous extensive experience with yoga involved a video tape I used once. Well, used for about 10 minutes before deciding it was too hard on my arms. Largely because I have never had even one muscle in said arms.

I want to love yoga because of the book Eat, Pray, Love. The author made it part of her personal hero's journey and it sounded so inspiring - I wanted to take the same journey. It's also (as any good People, US Weekly, or Star reader knows) a part of every celebrity's exercise regime and you can see how awesome their bodies are, so...yes, why not?

My fear is the boredom. And the challenge to my muscle-less arms. But I can take some challenge if I'm not watching the clock, and let's face it, yoga seems dead slow. Especially to someone who makes running her exercise of choice because you can get the most bang for your buck in the shortest amount of time.

Fast forward to Wednesday night. I got my mat out, situated it at the back of the room (Thanks Michelle for getting us off the front row!) and got in my tree pose as I surveyed the room for people who looked they would be less flexible than me. Yes, this makes me feel better.

I was pleasantly surprised by the level of the class. It wasn't too hard for an inexperienced beginner like me to catch on to, but it wasn't super easy either. My arms did shake and tremble with every pose, but she never held it so long that I had to give up. Well, except once-ish.

The thing that's most unique to me about yoga (and by unique I mean crazy) is that new-agey spiritual thing they got going on. It always seemed a little silly and over the top to me how they talk to you and coach you with all this positive energy and use find your happy place language like, "if you wish, you can put your arm through your legs and balance on your head for more of a challenge, but only if you feel ready and at peace...etc.." "This is your time. Feel your way. Love yourself. Hug a tree." Whatever. You know, the kind of garbage I'm talking about. No one says that to me while I'm pounding away on the treadmill. In fact my internal conversation is more like this, "Can't you run any faster you fat slob?? Sheesh, that old lady with the white hair is lapping you!"

It was a bit hard for me to swallow, in fact my downward dog wanted to become laughing hyena, but I kept thinking about it (you have lots of time to think in yoga) and realized...hey, this may be a good thing. All this crazy positive energy. Maybe the problem is me and what they're saying isn't so much cheesy as much as I'm just not used to hearing affirmation or even giving it to myself. Hello.

So I'm going to keep giving yoga a go. And I'm going to tune out the noise in my head and accept those cheesy affirmations and embrace them until I can take the word cheesy off the front of that statement every time I think about it. Who knows? Maybe I'll become a more positive person, and wouldn't that be amazing? (No answer from you Tricia.)

So at the end of the class, when I was laying on my back and thinking about how amazing it was that I did downward dog for more than 30 seconds without passing out, she said, "Let's thank our bodies now (pause...) for taking us through this entire class." I couldn't have said it better myself. And I embraced that affirmation...sans cheese.