In the office in London on Monday, I stood up and felt every single muscle in my legs screaming in agony along with me. I gingerly walked to the ladies' feeling about one hundred years old and walking with the grace of a stork on steroids. Wincing, I sat down on the toilet and let flow one of the hundreds of visits my tiny bladder and I would be making to the loo that day.

I was so sore as I hadn't been to yoga in over two weeks and I had done double duty with ashtanga yoga on Saturday and yoga on Sunday.

Punishment, man. Real punishment.

I have been thoroughly enjoying yoga. As the instructor says, it's one hour when the whole focus is to focus on relaxing and taking care of ourselves. With a depression like the one I have been investing in, this hour has become sacred, has become what I need to try to clear my head. As time passes I can see a real difference in my flexibility, although I have to say, I've seen no evidence of a leaner and trimmer Madonna-like body, unless you're talking a Raphaelite Madonna, and then I am only a few kilos of Emmenthal away from that.

Any more stressful projects like the one I am on and I'm going to look like a poncy Renaissance chick.

Yoga is not without its challenges. Besides the whole noxious gasses worry, I have had to learn how to keep a straight face when I am asked to go into the Sun Salutations, a part of which contains Downward Facing Dog (it's basically a position where you are an inverted V, which your ass to the sky, arms straight and your feet flat on the ground. Besides having a stupid name, it can strain some serious fucking calf muscles.)

When I started yoga it was with the knowledge that I needed to do something new. I walked away from my pugilistic past of hockey, tae kwon do, and boxing, and embraced a new world of Zen and shiny happy mantras holding hands. I figured that yoga, a sport that one does on one's own, is a sport that I need.

It helped that one of the yoga instructors, a very nice woman named Jocelyn, told me on the first day that yoga is strictly non-competitive. I was raised to be competitve. I used to be so competitive that I had to win at all costs, rather like my father, who is so competitive that board games fly should he lose at them. Whole countries have slid off the map at his loss of a basketball game. Chef Boyardee nearly created a new tin of ravioli, one laced with tranquilizers, when he faced my father in a bake-off. Yeah. Competitive. This has all largely passed on my behalf-I used to be a real fighter, but as time moves on I not only don't care who wins I am not particularly interested in the game, so I figured this was something for me. This is a singular act used to focus on taking care of the self.

I was right.

But I was also wrong.

I started yoga about four months ago, and a week or two after I started another woman joined. She's maybe mid to late 40's, with peroxide blond hair and very tight yoga clothing, and according to her a recent divorcee. She drives one of those pointless Mercedes 4x4s that we all know will never go off road in the duration of its entire vehicular history. Her name is Reena.

And she's starting to drive me nuts.

She and I both go to all the yoga classes on offer-Thursday night, Saturday morning (Ashtanga) and Sunday mornings. I can't always make the Ashtanga ones, and my rocket riding gerbil and Monaco saw me miss a few weeks of yoga, but in general I am a fixture. I love going to yoga. I hate being late. And since the class is in an old converted 17th century barn, I like to get there early with my mat and look out the window at the countryside.

Now Reena has started getting there even earlier and taking up so much space that she's the only one with access to the windows, despite there actually being room for three to look out the windows. It must have something to do with her feng shui needing to fuck up other people's karma or something, but she spreads out right across the window access, so the rest of us are facing exposed beams and whitewalls. Nice.

I sit and hold my fingers in the moudra position and follow Jocelyn's instructions to breathe in energy and life, and breathe out the stress and (annoyance) sadness.

And now Reena has taken to reading yoga books and challenging the instructors with her newfound knowledge.

'I've just read Yoga for People Who Want to Suck Up,'� she'll start. 'And it says that a complete and perfect mind-body harvest should be completed when the Hindu Moon hugs the Buddhist Moon as we cycle through the Third Chakra. What do you think about that?'�

The rest of us sit in silence as the instructor gets caught up talking about yoga with Reena, while the rest of us look at our toes and make mental notes to change the color of the polish. Red is the new black after all. It is summer.

As more time has passed, I've been able to do harder and harder yoga positions with one exception-I still have a very bad back and so have to tread carefully with it. If I do too many positions which involve turning my back into the spinal equivalent of a Tupperware bowl, then I am a crippled chick for the next few days. So while I can do the severe variations of anything involving arms, legs, various Warrior positions and whatnot, I am a pussy when it comes to back poses.

But Reena. Oh, Reena. She has to take every opportunity to do the most severe back positions and she looks over at me and smirks with a smug superior smile: I'm like a Slinky Toy. Her position taunts. I have no back problems at all. Your life sucks. I am way more bendy than you.

I smile back benevolently. I am one with the Zen. I am at peace with myself. I smile and my smile says: Yes, your back is more bendy. Congratulations. But when I go home tonight I'm going to get laid, which is more than I can say for you.

She blinks.

My smile politely reinforces my position. And it will be multi-orgasmic.

I face forward. I am one with the Zen.

On Saturday though, the last nerve, she got stepped on. We moved through the Sun Salutations with the room's heater turned on Turkey Baste (the point of Ashtanga is constant movement and pig-like sweat. I think Ashtanga is translated to 'Thermometer Popping Out of Ass Pain'�, however I might be wrong about that). Then the Ashtanga instructor turned to us to demonstrate the next sequence. She started off, then stopped.

'Oh, not Warrior 1!'� she exclaimed, giggling in embarrassment. 'What am I doing?'�

'That's what I thought!'� crowed Reena. 'I knew we were meant to do Inverted Triangle! What were you thinking!'�

The instructor laughs and turns to me. 'This is what I get. Reena took me out for drinks last night.'�

What is this? You went drinking with a student? You are fraternizing with a student? Does this mean you will go to a Washington prison and serve a sentence while demonstrating a criminal taste in bad haircuts, only to be released to a People magazine spread and a lifetime of embarrassment?

We continue on, and at the end we get our shoes and socks back on. Reena claps her hands.

'I've just signed up for a life course.' She says to us, acting like the Shaman of the County. 'I would be happy to provide some literature to all of you to join. It's excellent-two weeks of organic vegan macrobiotic food.'�

Organic vegan macrobiotic food? Two weeks with no alcohol? With no cheese? With no alcohol and no cheese? Is that possible? Isn't that called 'Prison'�, not a 'Life Course'�? She looks pitying at me, like I am the one who needs to be served a meal of silence, lentils and hazelnuts with a side of hot water with lemon. I hide my Herpes Hand and try to look un-stressed.

'And it's two weeks of complete silence and meditation to ensure a healthy holistic soul. Men and women are segregated to ensure inner peace.'� She continues.

Hah. Two weeks of silence? Count me out. I can't shut up for two hours, let alone two weeks.

'It's wonderful, I can't wait. It's only £10,000!'� she says, acting like it's Christmas.

We look at each other. £10,000? £10,000, which is about $20,000 USD. That much for two weeks? Babe, I can have my dream holiday and have it on Business Class flights for £10,000. If I were going to be spending £10,000, there better be sex, alcohol, sea and cheese, and not all in that order.

I sit and hold my fingers in the moudra position and follow Jocelyn's instructions to breathe in energy and life, and breathe out the stress and (hatred) sadness.

-H.

My secret for today: When I am home alone, when Angus is away and traveling, I sleep with two stuffed animals. One of them is a yellow teddy bear, and the other is my own stuffed black lab toy from Sporty. And when I fall asleep I have to tuck the two of them tightly around my neck cause, you know, that's where a vampire would go should one sneak into the bedroom. You never know, people. You never know.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 07:44 AM | Comments (19) | Add Comment
Post contains 1671 words, total size 9 kb.

1 To paraphrase the Late Sam Kinnison... "If you can afford $10,000 for drug treatment you don't have a problem!!!"

Posted by: LarryConley at June 30, 2005 07:55 AM (yzaFi)

2 he spreads out right across the window access, so the rest of us are facing exposed beams and whitewalls Why. Why is it always someone? A simple rudimentary workout was ruined for me by a thin, tan, petite blond chick who wouldn't get off her cellphone. While she was runnin' that treadmill 'bout 100 miles an hour, of course. Just to remind me of how portly I am, I'm sure. Then again, that's why I'm in the workout room, isn't it? Oh, how I could go on about Reena and what I'll just term Her Kind. But I love how you handled her--you recognized that Reena's problem is that Reena has to be Best at Everything, else There Is No Reena. If you can't integrate your failures into your sense of self and own them, learn from them, even love them at times . . . you wind up Reena, with no point to living save to win. Oh hey, but thanks for making me crave Emmenthal. GAH!

Posted by: ilyka at June 30, 2005 08:49 AM (g4AkI)

3 i've got a secret now, the first ones i couldn't tell my husband. yes... it's true... it's that type of secret. and i can share it here because... you understand.

Posted by: we all have secrets at June 30, 2005 11:16 AM (fLRGX)

4 Ha! What should do is make up some absolute bullcrap about macrobiotic food and how it kills valuable microbs or something and really give it to her next time. A secret right backatcha: Once I got a gift from my partner and i was so disgusted with him and his gift that I took it out to the highway and smashed it to bits.

Posted by: That Girl at June 30, 2005 01:25 PM (gu1Ur)

5 RE: sex, alcohol, sea and cheese *scratches head* I don't know...that looks like the right order to me ;-) These days the only excercise I get is 12oz curls.

Posted by: ~Easy at June 30, 2005 01:38 PM (muLIB)

6 No, ilyka. She nailed Reena's problem on the head, so to speak. Reena isn't gettin' any! :-)

Posted by: Ice Queen at June 30, 2005 01:40 PM (Ct/0E)

7 I think Reena needs to be pitied. Then kicked in the ass.

Posted by: scorpy at June 30, 2005 02:13 PM (9uvA4)

8 I sleep with a stuffed animal, too. It's an ugly brown bear that I've had since I was nine. What can I say, I live by myself and I get scared. I close my closet door at night and sometimes I wake up in the morning and it's open. What in hell is that about? I'm convinced that that bear is the only reason I'm not in some monster's belly right now. Here's my secret for the day: I'm terrified of clowns. Like, freakishly scared. (I'm totally blaming my grandma for that. She sewed me a handmade clown when the movie "Poltergeist" came out. Remember the clown that pulls the kid under the bed? Yeah, I love you, too Grandma! Thanks for the therapy!) I'm not too fond of IceCream men or porcelain dolls either. Don't even get me started on Jack-In-The-Box toys. And my secret for yesterday: I'm a little tiny bit jealous of my sister. Everyone talks about how beautiful she is and in the next breath, they'll say how different we look. The hell?

Posted by: Lindsay at June 30, 2005 02:23 PM (9AP/4)

9 "I hide my Herpes Hand and try to look un-stressed." Hilarious!

Posted by: Mike at June 30, 2005 02:26 PM (fX+A1)

10 LOL H! Funny I just had a vampire dream last night. It's the only thing that still scares me at night. I can be completely uncoverd but, if it creeps into my mind at night, not the neck. My boyfriend bit my neck one night (ya know as one does) while I was asleep. I went completely off my rocker and almost gave hime a black eye lol. I guess thats my secret for today.

Posted by: justme at June 30, 2005 02:41 PM (9Kwji)

11 Hey, where´s the most traveled bear in the world, Luuka? Followed her brothers path, Luuk?

Posted by: Miguel at June 30, 2005 03:23 PM (YaKXb)

12 In the yoga class I used to go to, there were a few school teachers in the class. For a while, they were bringing this student of theirs who was like 16 or so. I know it's not supposed to be competitive, but I was going to burn in hell before I let that little 16 year old who giggled the whole time and destroyed my concentration hold any pose longer than I could. It led to many sore mornings, but my pride was pain-free!

Posted by: donna at June 30, 2005 03:34 PM (Vdy8C)

13 I love that you sleep with stuffed animals when Angus is gone! And I love that bit about vampires! If it makes you feel any better, I have this Humpty Dumpty pillow I got when I was about 1 that I sleep with on my head - so that no bugs can get into my ears. I know. Strange and stupid.

Posted by: amy t. at June 30, 2005 03:54 PM (zPssd)

14 two weeks without cheese is like, yeah... no. STOP STOP!!! Make the thought go away. Make.it.go.away. And now i must think good thoughts, about the fresh new chive goat cheese I have sitting in my fridge.

Posted by: sporty at June 30, 2005 04:22 PM (NsnoE)

15 Apparently Reena never got the point to yoga, but there is one in every crowd. I actually had someone come up to me one a cruise while I was doing bikram and she had the audacity to tell me that my form was all wrong. After snapping out of my dream state where I was breaking her neck and throwing her overboard, I simply smiled and told her that she need not worry about others as she already has enough to worry about. I love the puzzled look on a person's face when I say that. And, for $20,000, you would think that you would get some action. Inner peace is not enough, you should want to get a piece, too.

Posted by: Sir Henry at June 30, 2005 04:42 PM (G0Uar)

16 It helped that one of the yoga instructors, a very nice woman named Jocelyn, told me on the first day that yoga is strictly non-competitive. They only say that because they know you're going to kick their ass. It's the same as "We're just playing for fun".

Posted by: Jim at June 30, 2005 05:45 PM (tyQ8y)

17 so funny, i was just talking about this competition thing with a friend last night. yeah, i struggle so hard not to compare myself to others in yoga class. it's hard but i try my best because otherwise i'd feel like a loser at the end of every class (just about anyone can out perform me at this point as i'm pretty unflexible.) but my teacher reminds me that it's not about getting somewhere, it's about being where you are. gah, why is that so tough!

Posted by: kat at June 30, 2005 06:40 PM (xJGrF)

18 I have to wonder if your yoga teacher talked her into two weeks silence, while they were out drinking - sort of a hidden purpose. A good teacher would notice that the woman was upsetting the students/nullifying the point of the yoga, surely? I can also imagine this silly woman drove her husband bonkers before she drove him away and she seems desperate for someone to look down on so she stops feeling so shitty (pardon) about her own life. On the other hand, if I was in class with her I would have publicly told her that whatever her husband thought of her when he left, he must have been pretty thick to take that long to notice how bloody aggravating and vacuous she is. That or I would have thumped her. 100 brownie points to you for self restraint :-)

Posted by: Cheryl at June 30, 2005 09:03 PM (f6B4v)

19 Great site. I like the skins. I can't even figure out how to do the 'read more' expand collapse thing for posts so this site is awesome! Reena sounds like one of those life-competitive people. They have done everything you've done, just better, longer, faster, better and for more money/pleasure. Depending on who they're talking to it can be amusing to hear what they've done and when, and how it probably contradicts everything they ever said to you, ever. Those people bug me, mostly because I can't make friends with anyone one whose sole purpose in life is to feel better about themselves, no matter what they have to do - whether it's taking up the whole window area, the whole class talking or the teacher's whole brain with alcohol. These people need attention more than air. I bet if you didn't look at her all class she'd come over and talk to you, just to get YOUR attention, she really needs it, she might disappear if everyone wasn't looking

Posted by: amber at July 02, 2005 04:37 AM (9OSDu)

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