My Yoga Fail

My Yoga Fail

I decided to give Yoga a try. Why? Because I want to be one of those girls who stroll and bounce down the street yoga mat in hand, ponytail swinging behind her. Yep, I’m impressionable.

I arrive and look around the room. Everyone is waiting sitting cross-legged wearing colourful ever so tight trousers (there’s a lot of camel toe in this room), I am wearing my 5-year-old joggers adorned with food stains and broken elastic. This, I realise, was my first mistake.

The teacher starts by speaking in soothing tones, she reminds me of the snake in the Jungle Book, the one who makes you fall asleep just by listening to her dulcet tones and looking deep into your eyes. I instantly like this soothing lady and I’m looking forward to my relaxing zen time. I could get used to this.

But then we’re being told to Downward Dog and I’m suddenly grateful to all those annoyingly good yoga Instagram accounts I follow. I ease into my position with a smug look on my face. I can do this. I am yogi, I am zen, I am professional. No, I’m not doing it right. The instructor is rushing towards me, she is grabbing my hips and yanking them up high, high towards the sky she says. I am now worried I will fart in her face. Has this happened before I wonder? I bet it has. She leaves before we find out thank goodness.

We’re then told to go into Warrior Pose. Do not be fooled people this is a code word for Lunge. But I thought we were zenning not gyming I think to myself. No, we must lunge and hold the positon like a warrior until she stops chanting. 5 minutes later she’s still chanting as people shut their eyes and relax into their pose with their strong thigh muscles. I just want to punch her. Straight in the throat so that she stops singing. My thighs are burning, my body is shaking and she comes rushing over to ask why I’m shaking so much. I don’t want her to know I have spaghetti legs so I tell her I missed my lunch. I’m sure she’s looking at my sizeable thighs and thinking ‘really?’ but perhaps I’m being paranoid.

Next up is the Bow. Or should be more appropriately named the fail. I must simply lie on my tummy (something I can do thankfully) and grab both my ankles as I lift my head. My head is not lifting, I am panting, I look like a tangled pretzel. The instructor looks as if she might say something but then sees my tomato face and thinks otherwise.

After a few other near impossible poses, it is finally the bit I’ve been waiting for. It’s time to lie on the floor and breathe away the negativity from our week. But then she is singing. Or making some kind of whale noise to be more precise. The laughter rises from within and I start choking, turning my laughter into a pretend cough. I don’t know why I’m laughing, soon we are all chanting and I feel like a twat.

Then it’s all over and I’m scampering away before I can make eye contact with anyone and I’m left with one thought. Perhaps I’ll give Spinning a go instead?

Next Post:
Previous Post:

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>