YOGA - Oh. My. Gosh.

I lasted exactly eleven minutes in my first-ever yoga class. Silly me! I thought it was just a lot of stretching. Well I can stretch with the best of ‘em, right? Not exactly.

Yesterday morning after doing my prescribed workout on the weight machines, I didn’t walk on the treadmill, but saved my energy for the evening yoga class I would come back for. In my uninformed mind, yoga sounded good. Relaxing. Soothing. Meditative.

I arrived early so I could speak to the instructor and say “I’m brand new, so what should I expect? What do I need to do?” But there was no instructor available to speak to, so I lay down my brand new lavender yoga mat on the floor like other women had done. Slender women. Maybe that should have been a clue.

The room was dimly lit and quiet. The Slender Women were either lying down for a pre-yoga rest or doing some little bit of stretching. I don’t know what I’m doing yet, so I took off my shoes, set down my water bottle, placed my neatly folded towel beside me, and lay down. I wasn’t expecting to use my towel, because this was just supposed to be stretching, right? Maybe some meditation thrown in? Easy stuff. No sweating involved, surely.

 Apparently if you are not a slender woman, you need 5 or 6 mats on top of each other so the bottom of your spine won’t touch the floor. That was painful! So instead I sat with my legs crossed Indian style. Can you still say “Indian style?” Maybe that’s not PC anymore. Sorry to whomever may be offended by my thoughtless remarks.

While I was sitting, waiting for something to begin, the music came on. Now, I have no objection to the music itself, but it did not lead me to a calm, relaxed frame of mind, which is where I thought I would be going. It sounded like the music you hear in The Lion King movie, at the beginning. Drums, women chanting, men with deep bass voices doing “ba-bum ba-ba-bum.”  Seemed an odd choice to me, but what do I know?

The kindly-looking bearded male instructor came in at exactly 5pm, the scheduled start time, and asked if there was anyone in the room who had never done yoga before. I raised my hand, as did two other women. The instructor, speaking to those other two first-timers said, “It’s good to see you beginners in the middle of the group. Usually beginners stay in the back by the door for a quick escape.” Soft chuckles from the Slender Women. I know he wasn’t talking to me, because I was in the back by the door.

He asked what kind of music we wanted, and gave us three choices. Before I could even process the options, someone yelled out, “Reggae!” Holy Smokes.

Now with Reggae playing in the background, he led us through our warm up. Oh. My. Gosh. I have not done male-style push-ups, well, ever. Even in Air Force Basic Training, at which time I was in the best shape of my life, we did not do male-style push-ups. After some “reaching for the clouds” type stretches, he had us down on our ridiculously thin yoga mats doing push-ups. My knees never left the ground, and I only did two. Then my tummy hit the ground with a little huff of escaping breath.

After a short time, I realized why there were NO other chubs in the class. This was not a class for a porky, heretofore sedentary middle-ager with fibromyalgia. It was for reasonably fit persons with reasonably good upper-body strength.

I tried to do it. I really did. I didn't understand the instructions, like "standing neutral position," or some such thing. I had to keep looking at the women around me, though the instructor had said to keep my eyes closed. I was always either two motions behind, or waiting for the next instruction, or wishing I had read "Yoga For Dummies" before I came to class.

It became apparent I could not do it. Not yet. I felt that our bearded leader had given me permission to bug out, since I was already in the back, near the door. Without fanfare or permission, I picked up my neatly folded towel, shoes, water, and brand new lavender yoga mat and high-tailed it outa there.

To those who will now say, “Linda don’t give up!” I say: this is not me quitting, this is me waiting to lose another 60 lbs or so before I try it again, otherwise I set myself up for failure. While waiting to lose enough weight and gain enough upper body strength, I will read "Yoga For Dummies" if it exists. And when I go back to this supposedly entry-level yoga class, it will be with information, determination, and a twin sized bed mattress.

Today, back in the pool!

"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." Phil 4:13