Ohmmmmm

[by Candis, who is sick of looking at the picture in the post below]

Yoga on a beach? Does life get any better?
It’s everywhere. It’s great for you and you spend half your time curled up like a child. No, I’m not talking about Thanksgiving with your in-laws I’m talking about yoga. We don’t take yoga classes as runners because we are above that. We are better. We pound the pavement faster by the month. People gawk at us as they drive by with their Baconator in hand. “Wow, look at her go.” [Ed Note: or him!]

But the press is everywhere. Yoga, like Wal-Mart is taking over and once you try both you’ll be more flexible, stronger, and have more money in your pocket- not to mention a lifetime supply of Smiley-O cereal for your carb loading needs.

It takes different lengths for us to give in and take a yoga class. For me it took a large word that I still cannot pronounce. Plantar Fasciitis, which looks way too much like fascist- coincidence? My left arch and calf are attacking my heel. It’s like little rubber bands snapping through my heel. The solution... stretches. Crap! I was hoping it was surgery or expensive orthotics- anything but stretching!

I’ve been intrigued by yoga for a few years but feared it was too new age. Fortunately I’m not good enough for the class where you teach your body to harness high powers- Ya right. Other than a few mentions of “sending your breath to muscles that won’t stretch” and something about my light that I missed, it was just plain relaxing. Like a massage that makes you strong and flexible. (I should mention that I took a class recently from a woman who I think was used to teaching a fast step class- her tempo was not helpful or relaxing.)

I should also mention that yoga is not only for gumbi women or only for women for that matter. [Ed Note: Nice try, but I’m not falling for it that easily.] I have taken classes with generously portioned women and biker dudes (like Harley not like Lance) and with muscle guys whose muscles quiver as they beg them to bend. There is no ogling because you have to look cool to hit on someone. It’s really just about you. It’s not about chocolate milks, laundry, meetings or a declining economy.

I do have one requirement for you. It’s just my personal requirement as most people would allow you to go on your merry way now. Buy your own mat. Seriously. I forbid you to borrow a generously offered class mat off of the mountain of sweat and germs. My feet sweat like nobody’s business and after seeing some of the others in the class, I do not want their mat next time. Now that I’ve grossed you out, shell out the $20 and get over yourself. It’s soooo good.