Yoga Breaks Me Up
In my everlasting quest to become fit and slim, I have started going for yoga classes with a colleague of mine. This fit and slim quest happens like twice a year, when my clothes feel tight, or when I can see a double chin forming in the mirror, or when I suddenly feel like a whale next to my unbearably skinny and fitness freak friends (the “FFFs”). It (the F&S quest) would have happened more often, except for the fact that I have stopped weighing myself since…hmmmm when I tipped the scales at 54 kg, me thinks. In case you think 54kg is light, let me tell you that I am rather vertically challenged i.e. no long Julia Roberts legs for me, so my then BMI was floating around the “normal” upper BMI range. (If you don’t know, BMI stands for Body Mass Index - duh!) And I am Asian, Asians are meant to be skinny.
Most of the time, I am happily leading a sedentary lifestyle - lying in bed reading books, sprawling on the couch watching TV and DVDs, lazing in my beanbag reading magazines, slumping in the chair writing blogs like this - well you get the idea. The most strenuous workout I get is probably having sex and going shopping. Even during love-making, Mr Boo probably spends more energy than I do, you know, with all that gyrating, pumping and what nots - sorry too much information here!!! Hehe.
Back to my main topic of the day - Yoga. I am not a virgin yogist. No sir, I have gone for yoga classes on and off (mostly off) over the last 2 years - so hey I know what they are all about. Sun salutation: cat pose, cow pose, downward facing dog, warrior, and the list goes on.
For someone as inactive as I was, I sincerely believed that I was quite a flexible creature (a result of all those contortionist kama sutra positions). So when one of my “FFFs” approached me to go for intermediate Hatha yoga classes, which nicely coincided with one of my “I need to slim DOWN!!” inspirations, I pounced on the opportunity to, ahem, show off my flexibility. Besides, I have done this before and it really wasn’t THAT difficult.
Last evening was my third session. Once again, I was humiliated in a class of pros. And once again I felt like dying mid-way through the session. Did I mention that my friend has been doing yoga relentlessly for the past 2 years (3 - 4 times a week), and now she can almost qualify to perform in Cirque de Soleil???
Our yoga instructor is a also slave driver:
“Go to plank, use your core strength, stay, move to upward facing dog, downward facing dog - lift one leg up, go to half lotus, warrior one, warrior two, sleeping warrior, balance, feel your biceps, triceps, stomach muscles contracting, challenge yourself stretch further, lunge at 90 degrees, do the binding, continue to breathe in and out naturally, relax yourself into the pose….”
Urrrrrrgh. What crap core stength?? I have no bloody core stength whatever. My arms and my thighs are burning and trembling, I am shaking like a Richter 9 scale earthquake, and you want me to balance on one foot??! Are you out of your freaking mind!? And my friend next to me, she is posing so naturally, a picture of poise and peace and twisting herself into unbelievable positions. In contrast, my face is red and I’m heaving like thunder, natural breathing go to hell! My muscles are tearing - I can’t twist anymore - I can’t reach my hand to touch my ankle - HELPPPPPP!
Thankfully the instructor did not single me out when I collapsed away from my pose out of sheer exhaustation (which happened often). I would have smacked him on the head, stalked out of the class and bawled my eyes out.
So all those pictures you see of happy shiny people doing yoga - it is a BIG FAT lie. If you think that yoga is for the pansies, go try it out yourself and tell me your experience. Now, I need to get a nice long massage from Mr Boo to soothe my aching body.
