(no subject)

I had very disturbing dreams last night, and it's all montykins's fault.

Because of this, vestra and I had to see if we could find somewhere to hear the Disco Evita, which we did, and it was brilliant (although it seems to be pretty much unavailable, which is sad). And that might have been okay, but then we found audio clips for the disco Ethel Merman album, which were even better, and then I went to bed and dreamed all night about disco versions of classic musicals, complete with glitter balls and gold pants. It was exhausting.

Downward Don't

Just a little clarification: Yoga? Hard. I take back everything I've ever said about how relaxing and inspiring the classes are, how energetic yet calm I feel afterward. I was lying, even if I didn't know it at the time. Completely fabricating the entire thing.

How did I come to this realization? Well, my happy little intro class ended in August, so I decided to take another class, because that one just felt so good. I thought I was taking another intro class - something to ease me into the practice, something where it was all about breathing, and it didn't really matter that I looked like an twisted tree stump for most of the class. Sadly, I signed up for the wrong day, and ended up in a class called Ashtanga Yoga for Beginners. Fine, I thought, I'm a beginner, and I wouldn't mind delving a little more deeply into the Ashtanga postures. No problem.

Problem. Three problems, actually: My first teacher appears to have been a bit of an anomaly among yoga teachers, most of whom want something from you other than just deeeep breeaaaathing; the "beginners" part of the title is somewhat inaccurate, since the class is really intended for people who are currently studying Ashtanga but want to make sure they're doing it correctly; and the postures, oddly enough, become much harder when you have to actually do them up to speed. Who knew.

I've only had two classes in this series, and I'm very much still enjoying it, but it's definitely been a bruise on my ego. Last night we worked on Surya Namaskara B, which managed to point out to me exactly how unmoving my shins want to be, how much my back is curved in daily life, how short my arms are, and how tight my hamstrings are, among other things. It was so sad - I felt like I was totally letting down the instructor, and I wanted to apologize every other minute. I actually nearly fell over at one point, as I was struggling to move my leg up between my hands from Downward Dog ("gracefully", my ass - it took both hands pulling it along). I definitely heard the teacher stifle a laugh as I attempted to balance myself while bending into a squat. I think I only redeemed myself because I was the only person in class who had heard of the psoas muscle. (I didn't mention that I thought it was spelled "soaz".)

I'm not giving up, though. I figure I made a fool of myself already, so it really can't get any worse. Right? RIGHT??