Welcome Back To Namaste

Two years ago, AK and I grabbed groupons for YogaLongBeach, and we went diligently every weekend early  in the morning until our passes ran out.  I love love loved it!  The studio zen vibed with my zen, and the instructor was amazing.  This past Christmas, Eddie aka the smartest husband in all the land, bought me a gift certificate for a ten-class pass to YogaLongBeach.  As the fates would have it, YogaLynbrook opened two months later, which is much closer to home.  Some of the same instructors, all of the same vibe, I couldn't wait to go.  Well, in my mind I couldn't wait, but physically, I had to wait until the Spring semester was over. Then the Summer semester hit, and I had to wait some more.  Then I had The World's Most Awful July.  Things happen.  The best cure?  Yoga.

This studio also has a zen vibe.  Love love love it!  The gal behind the desk saw my gift certificate and was like, You're very lucky to have someone give you this!  I was like, I know! My husband is great!  She and the girl standing next to me were like, Yes he is!

I found a spot near the wall on the left side, the spot I used in the other studio, and waited for the instructor to come in, the same one I'd gone to at the other studio.  She hobbled in, having a cast on her foot.  She had someone showing the positions for her, but she was also doing some of the positions and helping everyone along the way.  This is the same instructor who "helped" me get into a "headstand" (that hadn't gone very well on my end but she thought it was wonderful).  

I was so in my groove, so elated, so very yogic.  Until I realized I was next to a heavy breather.  In yoga classes, you can find certain kinds of people.  Everyone breathes--you're supposed to--and everyone makes some noise, of course, but there are The Heavy Breathers, The Sighers, and The Gas Attacks.  The Sighers do just that, they sigh with every change in position.  The Gas Attacks pass gas at every tweak and turn, sometimes loudly, but usually very sneakily.  The Heavy Breathers make breathing a sport itself.  Next to me was a woman who actively sucked in all the air around her as if she would have to hold her breath for an hour and then whoooshed it out as if she had to power a sail boat to rush it to shore.  In and out.  In and out.  It become somewhat distracting when we were in silent poses.

I powered through.  This was a gift, so I was gifting it up.  An hour and a half later, I was all out of sorts, feeling what a real yoga class feels like.  It'd been so long.  Sure, I do yoga, but when I'm there, I like really do yoga.  My body was screaming, but in the greatest way possible. 

So far, I've taken two classes of yogic bliss, the second one with a different instructor who was just as great as the other (as far as I can tell, the one we didn't like at all no longer works for them).  I'm looking forward to eight more sessions of bliss.