Keeping checking back here and I hope that people are just enjoying the summer and that's why there haven't been posts recently (and not that I killed the blog with my last downer post). Sorry.
Anyway - I've started taking a yoga class. My two pregnancies have left me with I think 3 working muscles in my tummy, and this is my great idea to fit that. So the plan is to be downward dogging every Tuesday night until the summer session is over. This is, however, not the first time I've taken classes with a yogi (or, as a yogi?). There was a brief period that a 5:30am class was a small part of my marriage prep.
Now, I know we're not supposed to judge, and I know that all the following is somewhat shallow of me. But. I could not help from comparing the two instructors. At my first classes, the girl was young, beautiful, in amazing shape, basically one solid muscle. The kind of instructor that has perfect, gravity defying hair, no matter what crazy twist pose she did. She also had no sweat glands.
This new instructor was an older, jolly lady, who I almost didn't realize was the instructor because she was definitely on the heavy side. Not crane lifting heavy, but probably about 50+ lbs. or so over a normal height/weight. She was (and I'm sure you all can see this coming) by far the better instructor. She focused on how we were doing, tailored the class to what poses would help us best. She encouraged questions and laughing (which I thought was a huge yoga/meditation/karma no-no). And, even at one point, stopped the class flow to explain how exactly to hold our hands so we would not get bad habits. Pause the Enya!
My old instructor never noticed that I had my child pose wrong and that I really didn't have the "yoga feet" down. She was busy taking all the poses "a little farther" and I guess thought we'd get used to the class flow and catch up (which is true also). However, although she was gently commanding us to BREATHE, I got the idea she had not let out all the way for some years. And the more I went, the more I realized that this class was only a part of her routine, not her whole exercise. Before class, I would see her on the treadmill at a full. out. run. A scary movie, guy behind me's got a knife run. Then she walked into class, taught, put away her mat and on my way out to the car, I would see her again on the Stephen King run.
Interesting isn't it? Put these two ladies together and I'm sure 99 out of 100 would say that the young, fit one was a walking advertisement for healthy living, but really, she seems tortured by her exercise routine. The new lady, though, seems to understand the purpose of her gentle poses. And I bet has more of an acquaintance with inner peace.
And she can hold pretty much any pose known to man. Then takes it "further."
