======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ==== ======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ====
It’s 78 degrees inside the studio as I begin to take my shoes, socks, and sweatpants off to begin class. I’m down to a pair of Manchester United shorts and a ratty Duke basketball t-shirt as I pick a mat towards the back of the room. Despite owning my own yoga mat, I’m told that the class will provide me with one, and I can tell right off the bat that this is going to be a major problem for me.
The problem with the mats is that they get re-used for every class. People’s bare feet are sweating on these things day in and day out, and I’m supposed to be okay with putting my face on one of those during certain poses? What kind of disinfectant is used? Will it fuck with my skin? These are all questions occupying my mind as the instructor tells us to wiggle it all out and get ready.
The class is described online as “Power Vinyasa.” They crank the heat way, way up and go from one position to the next seamlessly and with almost no time in between stretches. I’ve only ever been to a handful of yoga classes in the past and no matter what I tell myself beforehand, the same thing happens every time I go: pure, unadulterated rage and frustration.
The purpose of a yoga class is to relax the body and the mind, but all I ever get out of it is embarrassment, pain, and anger. I always think that the next class I go to is going to be less vexing than previous ones and it is never true. This is only further proof that I have an incredibly small brain.
Downward facing dog to a twist with eagle legs. Warrior one to warrior two and then back to a downward facing dog. Internally I am screaming bloody murder. I’m looking at my classmates and desperately trying to copy them to no avail. I stink at yoga, and everyone knows it. I say things in my head to the instructor that I don’t actually mean and should never be said aloud to anyone.
“I hate you, lady!”
“If you tell me to relax one more time I’m gonna come up there and rip your goddamn head off.”
“Enough with this instrumental El Ten Eleven bullshit, let’s listen to Marilyn Manson and throw some weights around.”
It was the heat of the moment, what can I say? I love El Ten Eleven and the instructor was actually quite nice. I didn’t know it was possible to be this angry while doing something that is supposed to make me calm, cool, and collected but here I am – cursing this instructor to the seventh layer of hell for putting me through this bullshit.
I’m grunting, panting, and moaning as I try to keep up with the rest of the class. When the instructor begins telling us that it’s time to balance the entire weight of our body onto our elbows, I let out another low groan that I hope no one hears and go straight into child’s pose. I let out a small chuckle. Why the fuck did I think I could do this?
The class is now moving at a pace that I cannot keep up with, and I know that we’re only halfway done. At this point, the mat (which I knew was going to be a problem for me and my mild OCD) is now drenched in my sweat. My feet have been all over it, and now we’re doing a stretch which involves putting our faces directly on said mat. I see everyone in the class do this without a second thought. Me? I think you can surmise what I did. Child’s pose, baby. Did I mention that I had a slight problem with these mats already?
Who was the genius that thought people would want to use community mats for yoga? I don’t care what kind of sanitizer you’re using following each class. Peoples gross, sweaty feet and butts are all over those things. If I wanted to catch a cold I’d go running outside. I don’t need to get sick via ass germs on a yoga mat.
I know that yogis and the people who frequently practice preaching about how yoga is a judgment-free zone. The original Planet Fitness if you will. But every time I go to a yoga class and give up halfway through some crazy ass stretch, I can feel eyes burning a hole through me.
I’m getting laughed at – not only because I’m a male in predominantly female classes, but also because I’m laughably bad at it. I deserve to be mocked and ridiculed for my poor flexibility and loud grunting. I told myself last night that this is probably the last yoga class I attend, but I know in two or three weeks I’m going to forget about how miserable my experience was and go right back to the well, telling myself that this time is going to be different..
Respond
jduda@grandex.co
I was on the fence about taking up a yoga class but this cleared things up for me. I’ll just do it alone at home with an instructional video and my own mat to really satisfy my inner introvert. Thanks, Duda.
Check out Sean Vigue Fitness on YouTube. All skill levels, and his classes rock
Thanks, I’ll check it out
The picture says it all
Not anymore.
My office provides free ‘yoga’ in a conference room during lunch twice a week. Because there are no showers, they specifically only do poses that won’t make you sweat and they require you to bring your own personal mat. It’s mostly stretching with the lights turned down low, soothing music playing, and ends with a 20 minute shavasana (i.e., a nap). Maybe that’s the type of yoga you should get into.
You guys hiring?
You just wanted a reason to share that pic
*screams in a fit of rage while performing and holding child’s pose on a cardboard box in a gritty alley between two Starbucks*
Maybe urban alley yoga will be the next big trend that hipsters force on everyone. Enjoy the sound of car horns, smog and cigarette butts on the ground as you transfer into downward dog pose.
the light in me honors the light in you, dudanator
I would love to know the conversation that happened that led to the taking of the header photo.
Slightly disappointed that Duda is in a relationship bc otherwise I’d encourage him to use this header photo as a bumble pic. Pure heat
Try out a yin or restorative class and I think you’ll have vastly different results
That and also don’t do hot yoga. I used to try to force myself into doing hot yoga but it just made me miserable and frustrated. Now I do unheated yoga classes and am significantly happier.
Yoga also makes me angry