My toes buried themselves in the sand as I felt surrounded by the waves of the ocean. The air was a warm breeze with just a hint of mist from the ocean swirling around me. I was at total peace as the yoga instructor spoke calmly to the small class of tourists gathered ocean side for the sunrise yoga class. Breathe in. Breathe out. My mind was empty. Blissful.
But not really. I am really, really bad at yoga. While on vacation, I decided to give it another go, as regular yoga has been on my new year’s resolution list for…. a few new year’s. Who couldn’t love a sunrise class by the ocean?
I know the benefits of yoga are scientifically proven – increased flexibility and strength, reduced stress, increased mindfulness. Some of the leaders I respect most swear by it.
So I’ve tried it several times over the years. For a period of time – post babies and desperate for a return to what used to be physically – I actually went to hot yoga relatively frequently. And then I fell off the wagon. And haven’t found my way back on.
The problem is I’m really not good at it. Running is notoriously bad for flexibility and I’m a textbook case. Even in the yoga class I used to attend frequently, the instructor called me “tight hamstring girl.” She wasn’t kidding. In college, while nursing my cranky IT band, the trainer for my running team did months of dynamic stretching on me to loosen everything up. It totally worked – he would literally strap me to a massage table daily and over several weeks, eventually was able to stretch my foot all the way over my head.
But it required being strapped down to a table with a grown man pushing on me to achieve such flexibility. 20 years ago.
Anyways, yoga seems like such a good idea. Clearly I need the flexibility. And the core strength that doesn’t come from running. And, all the youngish looking 40-something actresses swear by it and who am I to argue?
And that doesn’t even touch the mindfulness aspect of it. The stress relief. The opportunity to choose an intention, focus your mind, and leave the stresses of the world behind.
But I really am not good at that part either. After about 30 seconds, my mind starts to wander. I write this blog. I write to-do lists. I think about how much more I’d rather be running. I wonder if Orange Theory would be just as effective, with good music. I question if this is really even a work-out (until my core is sore the next day). I roll my eyes (internally) at the instructor. I wonder if the other people in the class are actually enjoying this. I plan my outfit for the day. I think about critical work projects. Then try to think about my intention or whatever I was supposed to clear my mind and focus on.
And then, when I can’t stand it any longer, I look at my watch. 7:35. Ugh. 25 whole minutes to go. This is how long I usually hold out before peeking at my watch. 35 minutes feels like a lifetime. And then 25 more minutes goes even more slowly. I try and train my mind to shut down. Don’t watch the clock. And I fail miserably. It feels like a long class in college.
But I’m always so happy when I’m done. I do feel more peaceful and centered. And I’m sure I would be more flexible if I did it regularly. And eventually would get better at the whole mindfulness thing.
So I am going to really, really try. Commit to one hour class a week. It’s nothing! One hour a week, surely this I can do. But I haven’t yet. So here’s to planning on this being the year. If nothing else, I should view it as a key part of my marathon training. And perhaps I’ll surprise myself and grow to love it.
Namaste.
The Redefining 
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