Man Yoga

At the strong urging of my wife, I went to a new class that is being offered at her gym.  The new class is yoga for men.  With a bit of trepidation I agreed to go.  I am an extremely inflexible person (physically) and I wondered how the whole stretchy yoga thing would go.

Jen needed the car, so she dropped me off.  The whole evening just about finished before it started.  The instructor said we needed four people to hold the class, but we only had two.  Luckily, she agreed to hold the class with only two folks, or I would have had to go down to the union shop and interrupt their meeting to get keys to the house from my wife.  Disaster averted.

I gotta tell ya, that yoga is tougher than it looks and it looks pretty tough.  I would just get into a pose and think that it was tough but doable, and then the instructor would come by and twist me just a little bit further.  I must say that I had to grimace a bit and bite the bullet to hold some of those poses.  When I was told to squat down and put my palms on the floor, I suggested that maybe my knees were a better option.  I just can't go any lower than that.

The worst part was the little bit of gas that I developed toward the end of the class.  That was of course when the instructor had us sticking our asses in the air.  It is really distracting when you have to hold yourself in a way you are not used to and use muscles you're not used to using and meanwhile you must concentrate on clenching your sphincter.  I must admit that it was a bit stressful.  When there are only two people in the class, there's not many ways to hide a slip.

In the end, my body felt pretty used up in a way that was different than it ever has in the past. I think that I'll give this yoga thing another couple of tries before I make up my mind, but it's looking good.

Oh, yeah.  I went out and let a ginormous fart when we finished.  That's how I spell relief.