Dressed to kill...(Brenda, my yoga guru)

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2012_09_01_archive.html

I haven't been to yoga for well over a month. And, no..."well over a month" is NOT code for "practically a year." I blame Brad's recent shopping spree where he graciously encouraged (tricked) me to buy actual yoga clothes. Shopping that entails anything other than buying groceries typically sends me into a Death Spiral but since this is an actual yoga pose, we figured What the hey! 

Pants are tricky as I am long-of-the-leg, wide-of-the-waist and big-of-the-butt. And why on earth would I spend over thirty dollars to accentuate 2/3 of those characteristics? I was unceremoniously shoved into a dressing room (that opened up right onto the sales floor...what marketing idiot dreamed up that brilliant game plan? There was no WAY I was going to model my yoga couture for an athletic store full of fit athletic people.). However, I didn't calculate the three inch gap at the bottom of my dressing room door.

Seeing a suspicious shadow, Sydney hissed, "Mom...what are you doing in there?" Brad had put her on guard duty, certain that I was a flight risk. I emerged, breathless and beet-red, moments later. "I was doing Downward-Facing Dog," I whisper-shouted at her, indignantly, "only to discover that I had Upward-Facing Ass-Crack!" We left the store, rapidly, empty-handed.

https://memegenerator.net/instance/53404753

"Can't we at least up-grade your yoga mat," Brad asked supportively at Stuff-Mart. My current model currently doubles as a slip-n-slide. We looked at the thousands of choices available to us. I gasped at the prices. "But look at the traction on this one," Brad marveled. "Plus it comes with a handy carrying strap," Sydney noticed. Around the corner from the yoga mats, there were racks of yoga clothes (That's called GOOD marketing, folks). I spotted a nifty t-shirt with a Chuck Norris joke on it and squealed. My yoga instructor is blissfully unaware of time and classes often go over. Most people would view this as getting more bang for your buck. Not Amy Mosiman. I grabbed the shirt with some XXXX-large yoga pants and headed to check-out.

And now that I had yoga clothes and a super-tread, no-slip-and-slide yoga mat, naturally, I stopped going to yoga.

Until yesterday.

I wrestled my way into my XXXX-large Superman blue yoga pants with my sarcastically red Chuck Norris t-shirt. "Are you ready to go," Geri asked, walking into my room. Duh. "Wait," I said, looking at her, "aren't you going to change into work-out clothes?" She looked down at the outfit she'd worn to school and then at me like I was an idiot. "My pants are stretchy," she explained, snapping the waistline at me for emphasis, "and my polyester-blend shirt is nice and flow-y." She also demonstrated the flow-y-ness of her shirt. So off we went to yoga: Me in super-constrictive work-out clothes and Geri in nice and flow-y work clothes.

"Cute shirt," Brenda said, complimenting my failed attempt at sarcasm. We immediately began twisting our bodies into unnatural positions. In Table Position, Brenda instructed us to thread our left arm through our right arm with the right shoulder resting on the floor. "Now, if you're able," Brenda encouraged, "stretch your left leg out." By this time, I was humming the "Hokey-Pokey" in my head and Geri was grumbling about "right hand-red" like we were playing Yoga Twister. Somewhere along the line, Brenda was telling us happily that our fluids should be flowing. Geri and I glanced at each other in concern. "The only thing flowing in this yoga studio should be your shirt," I whispered at Geri. I was begging Brenda at this time to show us Corpse Pose. She compromised by putting us in Cobra. Then...because she obviously hates us...we went from Cobra to a Plank and then were suppose to somehow, effortlessly, bend our arms at the elbow and "drift" to the floor. Brenda drifted. We collapsed and accidentally discovered how to do Corpse Pose on our own.

Our ending Resting Pose had us with our bottoms butted up against the wall. I know, I know...I giggled when I wrote that too. "You have three choices," Brenda offered, demonstrating each one. The first two weren't too bad but Choice Number 3 would have had Geri and I running outta there (if we had been able to walk at that point). With her beautiful legs stretched straight up in the air, Brenda then spread them so that she was basically doing an upside-down split against the wall. "You'd be surprised at how comfortable it is," she told us as we winced in pain, just looking at her. "I don't think I'd be surprised at all," Geri reassured her as we didn't choose Choice Number 3.

"How did it go," Brad asked when I got home. "We need to go shopping again," I told him. "I need yoga pants that go up to my armpits and a polyester-blend flow-y yoga shirt with sarcastic comments that are blatantly obvious." Now that I think of it...maybe I should go into marketing.