Me and Yoga

Today I found myself sitting on the couch, wondering what to do, when the lovely lady in my life asked me, "Will you come to Yoga with me?" Well, let me tell you, it has been awhile. But I think to myself, I can do that. I am, while not flexible, am at least capable of some modicum of physical activity that should allow me to participate successfully in yoga. As it turned out I was wrong. Yoga.... is not something my body was built to do. As I stood there, following the movements of the instructor I found myself looking around and marveling at how fluid everyone moved, and how poised everyone was, and thought to myself "Fantastic, this must be what I look like!" This, of course, was because I was looking at the mirror directly in front of me. Then I noticed the mirror to my side. I think the nicest way to say it, is that I looked like a hunchback trying to hump the floor. There is something seriously wrong with my body for it to look like that. Like... seriously wrong. Like dropped as a child wrong. I first noticed this during a move called "plank" where you hold a pushup pose and make you back as straight as possible. I, for whatever reason I know not, cannot make my back straight. The best I can manage is something approaching an old English double S. Needless to say it makes me look like a swaybacked horse. There are few things more embarrassing than biting back a scream in yoga. People around you do it so flawlessly, and I stand there, shaking in an attempt to get one leg straight. They say you can use a block if you have trouble reaching certain positions. I used the block, stood on end.... on another block. When I was informed that when you sit and reach your toes that you need to have a straight back, I found myself actually leaning backwards a little bit. Yes, it may look like I am just not trying, but essentially standing still is me stretching to my full capacity. I mean, in this class I worked up a sweat. Not like an "Oh ho, a jolly good stretch" sweat, I mean like "Holy crap that bear just doesn't give up chasing me, maybe I should play dead." sweat. An it really starts to go downhill when you hit that point where your muscles have had enough. I mean when you are lifting weights and your body says "oh no, we can't lift this anymore" you both A) feel good about your efforts and B) go to a lighter weight. When you are doing Yoga and your body decides on its own that it has had enough you A) Feel like a fatty fat fat, and B) Can't go down in weight because you ARE the weight, and promptly fall over. Now I don't know why I am not flexible, to the best of my knowledge no one in my family is flexible. Perhaps it is genetic, but its so bad it is as though everyone in my family has never attempted to reach their toes in generations, as though my mere attempt now is like planning a trip to the moon. And no, I cannot reach my toes. I might, with some practice and determination, be able to reach my toes with a yard stick, a yard stick held by someone else. I think my personal low moment came near the end of the event. There is a pose, called child's pose, where you sit back on your knees and bend forward to place your forehead delicately onto the mat. This is what is SUPPOSED to happen. There are apparently 2 flaws in my plan while attempting this. 1) I am out of energy. Some of the other stuff we did has apparently greatly taxed my body, which surprised me as I have honed it with hours of working out standing and sitting in my office chair and working the swivel option till I am dizzy. Solid workouts! So as I said, there is not more energy in my core. and 2) I am apparently not flexible to hold that pose. That's right ladies an gentlemen, I am not flexible enough to literally sit on my ass. So when I go to delicately place my forehead on the ground, the combination of no muscle strength combined with my body's inflexibility turns me in to something approaching a reverse catapult with my head and the throwing stone. I cantilever my body into the ground like some Frat boy passing out after collapsing and drinking too much and only at the last moment have the presence of mind to turn my head so I don't break my nose. Well, after achieving this sad position, which I must admit was still wrong with my ass in the air, I decided to hold it in the vain attempt that it looked like I knew what I was doing. But then of course I look at the teaching instructor and I am still at a loss as to weather it was honest confusion or pity I saw in her eyes. The only saving grace to this entire experience was that it was in the dark. Or so I thought until everyones eyes merely ADJUSTED TO THE DARK and I had to wonder if they thought there was something wrong with me. Well, as I sit here writing this I must tell you that I do not feel jingle jumpy spritely as so many often do after yoga. I feel like crap. I tried unloading the dishwasher and nearly fell in, and can only that the gods that my wife was looking the other way when I nearly escaped self imposed death on the clean cutlery. Fail yoga, fail. But I will likely return because even though I might quite possibly be descended from a stick I hold out that I may one day be flexible. But when I sit indian style I look a bit more like a taco than an indian, so my hopes aren't exactly all that high. Why is it my dog is more flexible than I am? (this is both a reference to the fact that I cannot do the "downward dog" yoga pose AT ALL, and to the fact that yes, my dog is weirdly flexible)