Katherine Cobb
  • Home
  • About
  • Books
    • Break Out the Dawn
    • Falling
    • Fifty, Four Ways
    • It Is What It Is
    • Little Wife Lies
    • Panhandle Portraits
    • The Projects >
      • The Marriage Project
      • The Self-Loathing Project
    • Weeza's Great Escape >
      • FREE coloring pages
  • STORE
  • Blog+
  • ARTICLES
    • Addiction series
    • World Champions of the Panhandle >
      • Travis Bagent
      • Vicky Bullett
      • James Jett
      • Randy Robinson
      • Fulton Walker
    • Rowzie Runs the Cannonball
    • Blaise Grove
  • News
  • Social
  • Free Stuff
  • Contact

Going with the flow at yoga (column by Katherine Cobb)

9/14/2014

1 Comment

 
Picture
Here I am, attempting not to laugh, just like in class. Namaste!
I recently added yoga into my health regime. I’ve attended a smattering of yoga classes over the years, but it wasn’t exactly convenient. With studios now open in Charles Town, I decided to give it a try again and reap the promising health effects at my mid-life stage.

I attended a few initial classes and enjoyed the overall flow. Not too taxing, not too elementary. The instructors seemed nice and did a great job helping me transition through the poses. I don’t always understand what they’re saying because “yoga speak” is another language — literally and figuratively. Thankfully, instructors usually translate the name of every pose.

On a recent Sunday, I decided to try a different class. I was feeling sore from my rigorous weekly workouts and mused to myself that ninety minutes of tranquil yoga would be good for the body both inside and out.

I set up my mat on the wooden floor and sat waiting along with the other participants.            

The spunky instructor walked in, glanced at the ceiling fans rotating in the small studio and said, “What do you think this is, Cindy’s class?” (I changed the name to protect the innocent). She proceeded to turn off the fans and turn on the heaters on this fine humid summer day. She said we were going “to feel the heat.”

That’s when I knew I was in trouble.

You may or may not have heard of hot yoga classes but I’ve avoided them like I would a snake on the sidewalk.

The instructor said we’d be “working hard” in her class. I silently prayed I’d make it through, vaguely recalling a similar sentiment from my aerobics class years.

During the warm-up, the instructor surprised me again by pulling up the bottom of my shirt and smearing on some type of balm that makes your skin feel hot. I wasn’t sure if I should feel vaguely violated.

She began throwing out yoga vernacular like a juggler on amphetamines. I tried to stay focused and keep up.

We did a multitude of poses that all seemed to end with the word “asana.” We did several adho mukha svanasanas (downward dogs), bhujangasanas (cobra poses), virabhadrasanas IIs (warrior IIs), trikonasanas (triangle poses), tadasanas (mountain poses) and a slew of others I’ll never remember (full disclosure: I had to look those up. I can remember “cobra” but I can’t pronounce its Sanskrit name).

As the room heated up and my skin began to perspire, my now-wet hair clinging to my scalp, I kept praying to whatever gods do yoga to help a sister out.

I was laughing to myself (Hahasana?) about how I thought I’d been so clever coming to this Sunday class where I would bathe in gentle yoga and feel rejuvenated and relaxed — something similar to how I felt swimming in Trunk Bay in the Bahamas.

Do you know how many yoga poses you can do in 90 minutes? A lot (millionasana?).

I was led into positions I’d never before seen. One was called the bird of paradise (svarga dvidasana). This was clearly for advanced yogis. I know you’re not supposed to eye your partner, but my mouth was agape as I watched a couple of people attempt it. Some birds did fall out of their nests. As for me, I just stayed where I belonged, with my feet firmly rooted on the ground.

Dripping with sweat, fatigued but also strangely energized, our class wrapped up with something I got pretty excited about: a headstand (adho mukha vrksasana). I haven’t attempted a headstand since I was about 12, but it’s something my childhood pals and I did often. Imagine my surprise when I had no trouble getting into that configuration again. I was doing a headstand at 50 (applausana)!

Then we did my favorite part — the meditation bit at the end of every class (shavasana or corpse pose). Because I was nearly dead, the corpse part was apropos. Usually I’m so relaxed at this point, I almost fall asleep.

Not this class. First my instructor returned and quickly massaged more hot stuff on my neck and shoulders. Maybe she was checking to see if I had expended the proper amount of sweat or perhaps she was just making sure I could fry eggs on my back. Then just as I was checking out, she began chanting in some otherworldly language, jarring me from my reverie.

This class was a trip. I was actually sore the next few days. From yoga. But I plan to keep it in the health regime. It’s supposed to be good for mind, body and soul, plus there’s no telling what’s coming next (surprisana!).

1 Comment
Casey Bagent link
9/15/2014 12:37:27 pm

Awesome article! I love walking through someone else's thoughts! This story made me smile.

Reply



Leave a Reply.

    Summary
    A collection of columns, articles and general a-musings.

    Archives

    March 2023
    November 2022
    October 2022
    September 2022
    May 2022
    January 2022
    December 2021
    November 2021
    October 2021
    September 2021
    July 2021
    February 2021
    January 2021
    August 2020
    April 2020
    February 2020
    January 2020
    December 2019
    October 2019
    August 2019
    July 2019
    June 2019
    May 2019
    April 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    October 2018
    September 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    March 2017
    February 2017
    January 2017
    December 2016
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    June 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    February 2015
    January 2015
    December 2014
    November 2014
    October 2014
    September 2014
    August 2014
    July 2014
    June 2014
    May 2014
    April 2014
    March 2014
    February 2014
    December 2013
    October 2013
    September 2013
    July 2013

© COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
  • Home
  • About
  • Books
    • Break Out the Dawn
    • Falling
    • Fifty, Four Ways
    • It Is What It Is
    • Little Wife Lies
    • Panhandle Portraits
    • The Projects >
      • The Marriage Project
      • The Self-Loathing Project
    • Weeza's Great Escape >
      • FREE coloring pages
  • STORE
  • Blog+
  • ARTICLES
    • Addiction series
    • World Champions of the Panhandle >
      • Travis Bagent
      • Vicky Bullett
      • James Jett
      • Randy Robinson
      • Fulton Walker
    • Rowzie Runs the Cannonball
    • Blaise Grove
  • News
  • Social
  • Free Stuff
  • Contact