I went to my very first yoga class Monday night.
I think I survived it, but I’m not quite sure.
It was the easiest yoga class in the history of yoga, billed as a Beginner Yoga workshop for three Mondays in a row. Monday night about ten of us sat on our brand new mats at the Community Center and learned how to breathe.
I loved that part. I’ve read a zillion times how deep breathing is important and good for stress and anxiety and promotes all sorts of health. I am not a healthy breather, but I will learn. The sweet, patient instructor advised us to practice.
And then there were some “basic” positions. We sort of learned four of them. I was in the front row (big mistake) so I couldn’t see if anyone else was as twisted and confused as I was, but several times the instructor came by and told me to “sink into your hips.”
I still don’t know what that means, but next Monday night I will try to do it again.
Yesterday I expected to feel sore, but I didn’t. And then as the day wore on? Everything was sore–but not in a bad way–from the top of my head to my toes. I was in bed at 7:30. I wasn’t asleep, but I spent some time shopping online for a keychain wallet that will hold my driver’s license, gym card and a $20 bill (in case I go to the Pantry after swimming to get a sandwich).
As I told Banjo Man, I am an athlete now and I need the proper gear. And more Tylenol.