Wednesday

P.S. Yoga. Again.

Hit up a different yoga joint on Saturday. WHAT. Suffice it to say the class description said "all levels," which was a complete lie.

Hombre instructor, let's call him Shri, because well, that was the devil's name. I alert him at the start of the class that due to my back issues, downward dog, forward fold, and any pose involving straight or even partially bent legs with hands simultaneously touching the floor is not happening.

I like yoga because you focus on just yourself (breathing, feeling the body settle into postures) and do your personal best. Not this class. For the next HOUR AND A HALF, after almost every pose, the instructor walked over to me to either push me into something I could not do, or to inform me I was not allowed to do that pose due to my inability to do it 'correctly,' followed by him forcing me to do an abbreviated/child version.

I learned two lessons that day.

1. Thanks to back injury, I am at kindergarten yoga level.
2. The new yoga joint is serious with a capital 'S'.

Okay, 3. I will never take a class from Shri again.

2 comments:

  1. You just need to right teacher. He sounds like a yoga nazi. Keep it up, Abbey! So proud of you.

    I was informed by a 'device' that I got for X-Mas that I am on the high end of "Less Active." Disgusting. Disgusting. Disgusting. Thus...I did lunges and ran today and now I can barely move.

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  2. What device is that? I hope you didn't pay for it! Hee hee.

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