I thought it was just a week ago, that I found out about the Bikram yoga class just a short walk (or even shorter bike ride!) away. My excitement is still fresh, my enthusiasm still new, my desire to get on out there and try something cool I’ve never done before burns as brightly and as beautifully now as it did when I first hatched my very good I Am Going to Totally Do Yoga All the Time, Maybe Even Every Day! plan. More than two weeks ago. Almost three weeks ago, in fact.
Three weeks! For three weeks, I’ve been thinking about going and taking yoga classes. That is a lot of time to think about doing something. The problem is, you don’t get the exciting health benefits of yoga when you just think about it–it turns out you have to like, put on the yoga pants and go sweat for 90 minutes, which seems terribly unfair. It’s much nicer to consider all the possibilities than to actually deal with them.
The possibilities sound very wonderful, and your comments were awesome and very inspiring, but I have just had so much going
on, see. I was very busy with some last-minute deadlines and emergency
projects and I didn’t have pants that I could wear in a yoga class
without sweating right to death and I couldn’t find my cute water
bottle with the skull because I’d need a water bottle but especially
this water bottle and I had to go out to lunch, and then I had to go
into Salt Lake and then I needed a better lock for my bike because I’m
afraid to leave it outside and unattended for so long with just a cable
lock and the times aren’t entirely convenient this week and it’s a
little pricey so I’m going to have to wait for my next freelance check
to purchase a class pass and it was raining, anyway, and I hate to walk
in the rain, and you know, I tried, I really did. Believe me, I thought
about it every day! It just never worked out, is all.
Except that is a terrible lie, and the truth is, despite all the
encouragement and my very real enthusiasm, I am scared to death.
Everyone keeps telling me how totally great it will be, and I am still
pretty convinced that I will bend retardedly in some very stupid way
that the yoga guru lady will have warned us very specifically against,
and in doing so, I will completely snap in half and my spine will
explode and eject fluid all over the studio with such violence that I
shatter the windows and send shards of glass chunking into the jugulars
of all the students and the wave of arterial blood will wash over the
street and cause a terrible 20-car pile up that will destroy the
lives of innocent pedestrians and their unsuspecting families forever.
On the plus side, becoming a paraplegic means I get a helper monkey,
right? I’ve always wanted a helper monkey.
On another side that is full of plus and hope for the future, I finally
at long last picked up a pair of wicking (wicking!) yoga capris, and
I’ve got a stack of tank tops and with my sports bra, they are all
folded together on top of my dresser and ready to be snatched up at any
moment and pressed into the service of my physical fitness and ultimate
well-being. Also, super-buff sex muscles of sexiness. By which, of
course, I mean hot abs and thighs that could totally crack a walnut.
I’m going to do it tomorrow! Or possibly Saturday, though Sunday would
work better. Monday might be best, because then I’d be able to start
the week fresh and it’ll be like a brand new start, a shiny fresh lease
on a whole new life of physical fitness! And rationalization is aerobic.