Tuesday, July 29, 2014

My boobs are too big (and other reasons yoga’s not for me)

“The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”

Who said this? Albert Einstein? Rita Mae Brown? Narcotics Anonymous? Doesn’t matter, just lock me up in the looney bin.

Because, yet again, I tried yoga. You may recall that I’ve tried hot yoga without success. I’ve also tried warm yoga and down dog yoga and up dog yoga and general yoga and every time, I shake my head, resigned to the absolute knowledge that yoga and I don’t mesh.

After the mind-blowing decree from a neurosurgeon that I cannot run (or, as I like to interpret it, I cannot run right now), I once again thought I’d give yoga the old college try.

“Expecting different results.” Sigh. I’m an irrepressible optimist. And yet, as I sit here on the backside of yet another class, I must realize once and for all that yoga is NOT for me. Why? Well...

1. My boobs really are too big. There’s no “gracefully reach your lunge forward and gently frame your front foot with your hands” happening in any sort of zen way for me. Rather, it’s “wrestle those mofos out of the way and plunge your hands forward to the ground before those suckers swing back and you can’t reach your front foot anymore.” The zen goes right out the window.

2. As a runner, and only a runner, and a runner who never stretched, I am very inflexible. Therefore, yoga’s hard. And embarrassing, because the teacher kept having to dig in the bin and bring me blocks. I had blocks under my hands, blocks under my butt, blocks under my hips, all in the vain attempt to have different body parts touch. I looked like a Lego creation.

3. If I stay in one place and sweat, I smell. It’s not a bad smell, it’s kind of a body-wash/deodorant smell, but I do not like to smell myself. When I run, I don’t smell myself until the end (and truthfully, that’s not always such a great smell). Then I started to think I could probably smell other people, too, and they most likely didn’t shower before yoga like I did, and that grossed me out so I tried not to breathe. Which defeats the whole purpose of a class based on the principles of deep breathing. And left me gasping for air. Totally not zen.

4. I found myself mentally arguing everything the teacher was saying. For example, “Where you are right now is where you’re supposed to be.” Not true. I was supposed to be at Bed, Bath & Beyond, but I got sucked into the yoga class instead.

5. My balance is kind of...well...nonexistent. So if I was to balance on one leg and lean forward and stick my arms out in front of me and stick my other leg out behind me, say, then I bet I would totally and loudly fall over and the teacher would have to come check on me again. Theoretically speaking, of course.

Okay, once and for all, I'm done with yoga.

Because sadly, I could go on and on, but I won’t. I have to go to Bed, Bath & Beyond.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll try Zumba.

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