Downward Your Own Damn Dog

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I do not play well with others. The last time I attended a yoga class I was a star until the next day when my back was so screwed up I was crippled for the better part of a month. Also, in those classes, the teacher will say something like “Put your right hand on your left knee” and I freeze. Which one is my left hand? Where is my knee? Wait, wait. And then I fall over and start crying.

Consequently, I do my yoga (and what is the correct verb for yoga? Do? Practice? Perform? Interpret? Whatever.) I do my yoga all by myself in the Quiet Room at my YMCA. The Quiet Room is perfect for me, no hearty jock-types yucking it up or overly spandexed young ladies thrusting in my vicinity. Just me and those like me, stretching and creaking and being left alone. People occasionally read the paper in there in between their crunches. Just what I want, a gym that has the ambiance of a small branch library. I tore my hamstring a couple of years ago and it still hurts sometimes, so it’s nice to have an environment where mediocre physical ability is no big deal.

This is so Not Me.

About mrpeenee

A former bon vivant and terror of a number of New Orleans bars in the mad, gay 1980s, I'm now quietly retired and widowed in San Francisco. I have a crooked nose due to an unfortunate Frisbee accident.

6 responses »

  1. I did the yoga (that’s how I like to say it, like an 80 year old woman might) once in public.Didn’t like it.The instructor came over and started pushing me into position. I didn’t much like that either, but I could see how it was needed.Like everyone else there, she was kind of a bitch.I don’t need (any more of) that in my life, I figured. And no cute men!Just a bunch of Whole Foods shopping shrews.Screw that.

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  2. exactly. Plus all the shrews are much better than me and I know the whole yoga-is-not-competitive blahblahblah thing, but get real. I refuse to help those skinny bitches get any more smug than they already are.

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  3. I took a very intense Iyengar yoga class one summer and it brought up so many unpleasant memories of being the fat kid in gym class that I had to quit. And start drinking heavily.

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