Posted on February 19, 2014


I’ve never been really into yoga. I like stretching, and I’m pretty flexible, but if I have an hour to workout, I choose to spend that precious time running.

I don’t like to meditate. Or be still. Or have someone speak to me in soothing tones while New Age music plays.

I have given yoga a go over the years. I’ve mostly done videos or watched tv shows or followed a YouTube video. (I do not recommend that last one.) I’ve even attended a variety of classes to see if “maybe I’d like it this time.” I usually leave feeling like I just wasted a good workout.

With all this marathon training and the fact I work in a store that sells BOTH running clothes and yoga, I thought I’d venture to the other half of my store. I’m getting older and it might be a good idea to stay limber. I bought an extremely fancy yoga mat to replace the two ten+ year old dingy ones I have that sometimes live outside. I let some friends take me to a ‘yoga flow’ class, the name of which had me putting serious effort into trying not to roll my eyes. At the last hour, I almost texted that I would go run and meet them after for coffee.

But I went. The studio inside the gym was amazing. Everyone looked like my kind of people- no blonde dreadlocks, no incense. It was modern and sleek. These were cutting edge folk. A smirky smile crept just under the surface of my skin.

We didn’t do the usual cycle of whatever mantra/dojo thingy I was used to seeing- you know, “warrior, sun salutation and breathe.” It was much more…flowy. In a good way. In a great way. It just kept moving. The instructor rolled us into moves that were new AND MADE SENSE to my body. My flexibility surprised me. My balance shocked me. The music was…popular. Hey. I really like this, what’s next? The instructor led us through deeper challenges with each move and they were twisty and bendy and I felt like I was at a Cirque de Soleil audition. I felt like I was doing well.

I was sweating! This was actually a workout, and felt like a full body massage. We twisted our bodies with different combinations of hands and feet on the floor, bending like rainbows, twisting like serpents in a crazy game of solo Twister. Over half the class slid into splits like it was as simple as sitting in a chair.

My advice to you, if you are my running friend afraid to cross over to yoga, (I may only be talking to myself here) is to give it one more chance. It took me 20 years to find out that I actually do like yoga. I can still hold my head high around other runners, even if I do a little yoga on the side. It might not be the WORST idea in the world for me to explore my softer side. Although, if you’d seen the instructor, there was nothing soft about any part of her body. For real though.

As for my super fancy expensive new yoga mat? I can’t believe I ever tried yoga on any other surface- I stuck to it like Spider-Man. I may have to spend my next paycheck exploring the mysterious “yoga offerings” we sell and see if the clothes fit, too.

Happy Running out there. And this time, I guess, happy bending.


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