Or so I tried to tell myself this morning at my first (of regular) yoga class.
I’ve taken the random class before, and I think I used a DVD a few times, but I’ve done lots of random classes and used many random DVDs in my quest for fitness.
A post for another time.
Today, I started yoga with the knowledge that it will be a weekly/bi-weekly event in my life for the foreseeable future.
At the Opportunity Center, a nonprofit group is providing yoga, for free, for the residents of the housing project, and my boss (and the O Center) is letting me and my co-workers join for free, as well!
I was (am) excited about this–my main issue with working out (well, besides lack of motivation) is that I’m really busy and at the end of the day, I collapse in bed or hop in the tub with my Nook (safely sealed in a Ziploc). Incorporating it into the workday? Perfect! What could go wrong?
My competitive nature, that’s what.
Don’t worry, nothing terrible happened–I didn’t seriously injure myself, or anyone else, and the only thing showing any damage is the table, perhaps–but I am really sore.
If my co-worker–who has never done yoga–can bend her body into a pretzel, why shouldn’t I be able to?
She’s already the marathon runner. I’m supposed to be the yoga “expert” of the group, can’t I have this one little thing?
She’s folding her body into a position that instantly sends every muscle into SCREAM on me, but I keep trying.
Now, I can barely walk.
But hey, I still feel kind of limber and loose, and I am determined that, by the time this class is over, I will be able to do this:
That’s totally possible!
Just you wait and see.