Bearing Yoga

When it comes to exercise, I am not a yoga-type, so no one was more surprised than me when I went to a yoga class at the gym. I'm more of a read while walking the treadmill type. Or watch TV while working the Nautilus machines type. Or rolling over and going back to sleep type. Yoga combines the worst of all these activities, by which I mean, moving.
Or not moving. At the end of the session we lay on the mat motionless, and were reminded that that was also a pose. I think it was called The Corpse.
Poses. I think that is why I have always avoided yoga. When Ryanne was in kindergarten her teacher taught them the woodcutter, the tree, the child pose, and a half dozen other very cute words to go with their movements. She liked yoga. Why wouldn't she? Being a mountain or a triangle was just more of the cartoon world she lived in.
I managed to keep up in the class for forty-five minutes, but only because I came in fifteen minutes late. I need to work on balance and strength, which is why I was there to begin with. I won't be able to practice at home though. Without the music, the instructor, and the peer pressure, I would go straight from the lotus position to the curled up for a nap position.
Nancy Sherer