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NTKOG #110: The kind of relaxed, centered guru who recharges after a long day with a stretch of yoga.
I am: a Brain, not a Body. If I could exist as a floating sentient consciousness in a jar of formaldehyde, I totally would. Plus: wouldn’t have to shower anymore!
I am not: good at listening to my body’s needs. Stretching? Destressing? Logging gym time? You’re not speaking my language.
The Scene: Healthworks Cambridge, a palatial all-women’s gym that looks like propaganda for a Brave New World hippie commune. I took advantage of a great Groupon deal for 24 day passes, including access to all classes, and Anglophile and I were psyched to try something out of the ordinary on our inaugural visit. Unfortunately, the incompetence of the MBTA got me there too late for our first choice — beginner mat pilates — so we waited around for the 8pm Restorative Yoga.
When we filed in, flanked by lots of 20somethings and some very fit older ladies, I got psyched for a physically challenging experience. Stretching ’til my muscles gooified, exotic poses; afterwards, flopping sweatily to the mat and hyperventilating for a spell. Serious dang exertion!
This lasted for the three minutes it took to get inside and grab a mat, then — why’s it so dark in here? Are they handing out blankets?! Half the regulars around me lay on their backs, covered with blankets, rolled washcloths covering their eyes. Um, nap-time anyone?
The instructor started in dulcet tones to talk about our consciousnesses and awareness and — oh god, who even knows. Her voice was dripping morphine. She told us there would be two options for every pose: one for those who were high energy, and one for those who were low energy. If you’re feeling high energy, she sweetly droned, wrap yourself complete around your bolster, crossing your ankles, hook your left elbow under your right ear and roll onto your right shoulder (or similar masochistic Twister). If you’re feeling low-energy, lay on your back.
Don’t think I need to tell you which one I chose.
Lay there for ten minutes, breathing deeply. Kind of soothing! Long pose, though. Surely any moment she would — “Let’s raise our awareness to our minds for a moment. If you are feeling anxious, lengthen your exhale. Or don’t, if you don’t want to. Whatever makes you comfortable.” — and ten more minutes of the Napping Toddler pose.
“Okay, if you’d like your body to make another shape, slowly do that. If you’re in the high-energy position [step-by-step instructions for folding body into origami crane].” And if you’re in the low-energy position…? You apparently stay on your back for fifteen more minutes. I tried to let the calm atmosphere soothe my mind and, per the advice of my instructor, “listen to my body.”
I’ve got news for you, guys. I tried listening to my body. That dude doesn’t have shit to say. I mean, my brain is a fine specimen: distrusted by men, admired by women — when my brain walks into my bar, everyone calls out its name, Cheers-style. My body is just a piece of furniture it owns. Like a TMNT Krang situation:
I'd like to think I'm just a teensy bit better looking than Krang's physical casing. That said, I'd totally love to score a pair of those sweet-ass metal epaulets.
Cross-section of my mind, thirty-five minutes into the Suicidal Turtle pose: Okay, dude, focus on how soothing this is. It’s like a bubble bath for your soul. Jesus, remember that episode of Full House where Michelle puts her fish in the bubble bath and it dies? I don’t want to die. I chose the wrong path. Maybe I should have gone to Dartmouth after all.
Just then, a radiant patchouli-scented goddess hovered over me. “Is your body soothed?” she whispered. “Uh, yeah, I’m cool,” I coughed as quietly as possible. She smiled a moment then hummed like a beautiful machine and her hands flew above me. In the space of a moment, she had taken off my glasses, refolded the wadded towel covering my eyes, stretched my legs, put a blanket under my bank, and fixed my hair. I wondered if I took her home, whether she’d brush my teeth for me.
“Doesn’t it bring you peace?” she breathed. Yeah. Yeah, I could kind of imagine how it would. If the rest of Yoga Nap Class was barely conscious, at least it was spent in a pleasant dream. Until immediately after the session, when Anglophile and I caught eyes for the first time then had to bite our cheeks ’til they bled to keep from laughing. ’cause I mean, dude, hippies.
The Verdict: Okay, obviously this class — ideal for pregnant women, recently injured people, and the elderly, as noted on the course description — wasn’t for me. I nap just fine on my own. That said, I did enjoy the calm in the room and the almost farcically constant affirmations by the instructor. Want to lay on your back for a full hour, as almost half the class did? That’s okay. Want to roll on your belly and stare up at the ceiling? Okay! Want to piddle all over the floor like a puppy? We love you the way you are! Namaste!
It’s nice to be allowed to feel good about yourself every once in a while, just as, y’know, a special treat. I foresee some more yoga in my future — but preferably of a slightly more physically punishing nature.
{ 24 comments… read them below or add one }
Go Bikram next time, they will punish you!! I thought I would pass out before it was over. Think 2 hours of really extremely heated sex, squeezed into a 45 minute yoga class.
I did feel kinda jipped, dude! Not to worry, my mind sorted out my body, alright. “Stay in this pose? Like hell.”
hahaha! Krang! That’s the perfect analogy. I’m a Krang too. But also better looking. I hope…
Krang….OMG, you just brought back about 5 years of childhood memories.
Rafael was always the best, although I have a feeling that I used to like him because he was the red turtle
Raphael was cool, albeit crude. (Gimme a break!)
My fave was Michelangelo. Actually, now that I think about it, I always liked the comic-relief food-obsessed characters. Jughead, Theodore Chipmunk, Tum Tum…
But now, older and wiser, I realize that Donatello was undisputedly the king of turtles. At least of the teenage mutant variety. He is totally a boyfriend.
I really enjoy yoga – we have someone come into our office once a week and do Ashtanga with us. It’s a good workout! And I also find it soothing mentally. It was hard to get used to as I’m not fit and I have an overactive brain, but I stuck with it and now that I’ve done it a while I really look forward to it. I feel all loose when I’m done! It’s nice to go to a smaller class though, if you can, so that you can get more personal attention from the teacher, otherwise you’re sitting there wondering if you’re doing the poses right and let’s be honest, probably aren’t and fucking up your spine or something in the process.
Dear, it warms my heart to know you have a real mom substitute in that very cold city of yours. If only she served crock pot chicken soup it would have been perfect and far less expensive than the air fare to Vegas. My job’s done.
hey at least you gave it a go. now you’ll know what you DONT WANT next time. i’ve taken a couple pilates/yoga classes in the city, and it does take some trial and error before finding the right… niche for you.
Dude, love the Krang reference. :D
I’m one of those girls who’ll declare “THIS time I’m going to try yoga”, and a year later I still haven’t got round to trying it. I think I might have a hard time keeping a straight face, my dad tried a series of yoga classes and came back with horror stories of lots of “bodily functions” happening lol. although napping sounds wonderful… I hope you find your perfect fit!
Finally! I was wondering when you were going to try yoga. I’ve been teaching it for nearly eight years – Restorative Yoga, um, not my thing either. I like to sweat my ass off with some Ashtanga. Will you try a more rigorous version any time soon?
PS, “her voice was dripping morphine…” love that.
this has me loling a LOT at my desk – good post :)
I too have done more vigorous yoga that’s had me sweating and sometimes almost crying…this does sound rather boring and bland.
Seriously, one of the funniest posts I’ve read in a long time. Well, since the Period Extravaganza. “When my brain walks into a bar, the whole bar calls it’s name, Cheers-style!”
LOVE IT.
Bikram will hand your ass to you, if you’d like a challenge. Otherwise, continue to roll around on the ground with hippies.
It’s interesting how your perspective alters your experience. I had high expectations for my first restorative yoga class, and then didn’t find it relaxing enough. That, and my mind wouldn’t stop with its incessant chatter.
I just found your blog, and I’m looking forward to reading more. :-)
Yoga is fine and good, but pilates will rip you a new one.
And make your abs look fabulous.
I could not agree with you more. When I am in Yoga class and the instructor wants to ‘hear you breathe’ and tto focus into the pose I just want to call Bullshit on them really loud. I guess I just don’t have the patience for it. That said…my favorite part of yoga is the 5 minute ‘nap’ at the end of class that surely has some fancy yogi name, but should really just be called a nap.
Hang on, you’ll try a more challenging one next time? You could have been challenged this time, right? You chose not to? Right? I feel like I must be missing something. Maybe Krang just lacks self discipline…
Yeah, I kind of condensed that aspect of the story for the sake of brevity. Basically the instructor made it sound like there were going to be two parallel tracks: a high-energy and a low-energy track, and since I was stressed out about waiting an hour for the bus and stuff, I was like, okay, low-energy for me. For context, during the hour-long class, we only did four poses. The first pose for low-energy was basically naptime, then when she moved the high-energy dudes into another pose, she gave them a description of how to move form they pose they were in to the next one, so I figured she’d do something similar for the low-energy — talk us from the on-the-back pose to another pose, but she didn’t. She just left us to simmer. Then she moved us into a third pose (the on-the-back dudes were still basically doing naptime, but with a folded blanket under them), and I tried to do the high-energy pose, but it required a yoga prop that I hadn’t been able to pick up in the beginning because the class was so full. So I had to wait ’til a yoga helper could grab me the prop, except by the time I got it, she had moved us into the fourth pose which was — you guessed it — on the back for everybody.
High- and low-energy alike, though, the poses weren’t complicated or strenuous. They looked like standard fetus-in-ultrasound stuff.
Although you’re definitely right that I lack self-discipline. Which I’m trying to work on! Through NTKOG! I thought I’d stick to something simple because I’ve never done anything even vaguely yoga-like before, and didn’t want to try something too hard. Which it turns out wasn’t a danger on either track. Live and learn!
You used Krang from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles to describe yourself?! <3
The one who got away, huh?
I Love it! So funny. I, too, tried my hand at this yoga junk. But our chick, she was heartless and made us non-experienced people weeble and wobble and look like morons. I think I would have preferred to lie down for the remainder of the class, since I would have at least not been in the front (for lack of space) and been making a damn fool of myself. I had to Google some of the things people commented on, I certainly had no idea there were different *types* of yoga. Good for you for giving it a shot, though.
P.S.: Dear The Ex, Krang is sexy and will squash you.
I saw this blog through Facebook (one of my friends posted it). After reading, I clicked Like and shared it.
TUM TUM!
omg, my brother, cousin and i used to play “3 ninjas” in our grandmother’s backyard! she had a motion sensor light and we’d try to get from one end of the backyard to the other without setting it off. my cousin was always tum tum because he was the youngest.
man. i agree with sister. 5 years of childhood memories.
Since when did you make chicken soup in a crock pot? Also, no mother-substitute will be able to make a yellow themed meal like you.
dear readers, a quick quote from the movie “Mermaids” to describe Mom and her cooking:
“…a word on Mrs. Flax and food: the word is h’orderves. Fun Finger Foods is her main source book and that’s all the woman cooks. Anything else she says it too much of a commitment.”
If you recall from the movie, Mrs. Flax made them “cheeseball pick-me-ups accompained by miniture franks and for desert, marshmellow kabobs.”
Yea, I’ve totally had that meal…and I love and miss that meal! :)