I went to a different yoga class than usual tonight since I got out of work early. I regretted it as soon as my co-yogis (Yoginis? It was an all-female class.) unrolled their mats, set up their towels, placed their water bottles next to them, and sat down like they were about to have tea. Did I unknowingly sign up for the Type-A class? I was hoping for an increase in physical flexibility from learning new/different poses and mental flexibility by trying out a new teacher. Instead I spent the class cursing my hips/thighs and missing my regular teacher's very German way of saying, "Hold here for three breaths now, yah."
I know you're supposed to focus on your own practice during yoga, but everyone else was doing exactly as the teacher prompted, exactly when she prompted it, or at least as best as their skinny little bodies could manage. (Seriously. I also missed the awkward-bodied people from my regular class...I really fit in much better there.) I seemed to be the only one a little bit off, sacrificing following directions for following what felt right in my body and with my breathing. Which I guess means I did focus on myself, even though I felt annoyed at the teacher for being so upbeat. When I'm holding poses in a 95-degree room, I don't want to hear the voice of a kindergarten teacher cheering me on, I want to hear something...more mature. Again, what I'm actually saying is I miss yoga with Will, possibly short for Wilhelm if he's as German as I hope he is.
Despite all that, I'm still plenty sore as I type this. I keep shifting my body into different positions so it doesn't cramp up. At the end of class, I always think I'm getting more flexible/relaxed/zen, and then I go back two days later and once again I can barely touch my toes and I'm stressed out over the same petty things. Staying flexible requires daily upkeep, but I wish there was some way to get it to stick for longer than one night. I think all I can do is breathe into it and hold here, yah.
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