Yoga can be truly amazing if you could just relax enough to submit to the process and let go of those things that keep you mentally confined. That said, someone forgot to send me the memo that I’m no longer as flexible as I thought I was.
In my super supple teen years and early twenties, I fondly remember being able to comfortably sit with my legs crossed and twisted at the ankles or sitting on my bed cross-legged for hours of fun-filled, titillating gossip sessions while on the phone or having the ability to pull my legs behind my head just for kicks and giggles. To even dream of trying some of those death-defying moves now would be sheer madness and you may need to call 911, STAT, because I’m not getting back up without medical attention. Yoga can be wonderful for the mind, body and soul but lately my body cares nothing for the experience.
For instance, I was really excited recently about my first Yoga class. For those of you who know me, it is of no surprise that I was completely accessorized for the occasion. New Yoga pants, diva top, pink Yoga mat and a great scrunchy to complete the outfit. I had the fab look and I was ready to stretch it out with the pros. Well, not so fast little Yogi. Back up the limo because no sooner did I get into the Downward Dog position when I got a downward cramp. I let out the most horrifying ear-piercing yelp you’ve ever heard. The pain quickly ran down one butt cheek and ambushed my thigh. It was so excruciating that I couldn’t move without the humiliating assistance of some of the more spritely (READ: annoying) 20-somethings in the group. Heaven, I just wanted to disappear. Where was there a black hole when you needed one? Needless to say, after that fiasco, this chica has been very careful about what she twists or bends. This aging thing really sucks!!
As for returning to the class…Hmmm…I wonder what else I can use this Yoga mat for?