Lauging Lotus Yoga

I Am Become Yoga, Destroyer of Knees

Attendees: Chona, Hannah, Kyung and Karen

I've heard such good things about midnight yoga that I decided to attend despite my cramps from hell. (I sort of relished the thought of a) having exercise ease my cramps and b) sticking it to the yogi Man who proclaimed that menstruating women should take it easy. F*ck that sh!t.) Thanks to my arrogance, what I discovered was a world of yoga so bruising that both my knees are covered with purple patches. A day later, I was also wondering why my large toe still hurt so much. When I took off my sock before bed, I noticed a deep bruise on the side of my left foot, not far from the place where I know my titanium screws are deeply embedded from foot surgery. I really hope I didn't do any serious damage.

So, what caused all this? Why, thank you for asking. It was caused by the latest rage in stretching: Manic Yoga. I have no idea if there is such an official appellation, but that's what I'm calling this drill sergeant and her class. She barked at us, leading us through a bunch of asanas and then had us repeat them faster and faster. Down dog! Plank! Cobra! Warrior! Rinse! Repeat! I was jumping up and slamming to the floor as I attempted to keep up.

Things were going so quickly that I'm quite sure I wasn't doing poses correctly. After an hour-and-a-half of this mania, I pretty much gave up and sat out the rest of the class. Two hours is far too long for me to be doing yoga at this point in my practice (I lose interest). Compound that with drubbing my knees into oblivion, and I had to stop. My lack of movement quickly brought me to our instructor's attention. I showed her the rapidly changing color of my beloved hinge joints, and she patted my back, saying, "Poor baby!"

I just wanted to leave, but I didn't want to abandon my friends. So, I stuck it out, hoping for some tea afterwards and the chance to bitch about how my knees would be ruined for my beach vacation in L.A. in two weeks.Nothing is as hot as a bikini with bruises.

But that's not all! I had a few other issues. The class was packed--we were all sandwiched too close togther and I nearly had my head swiped off by the overzealous woman to my right. I much prefer a small class size (under 10 people). Also, the instructor attmped to tell us what God is (the answer: the breath within the breath). I think I get it on a metaphorical level, but this really isn't useful information. Also, I'm not a huge fan of instructors trying to teach me new philosophies. I'm in this yoga game to become more flexible and help my back, shoulders and hamstrings. I'm not fond of chanting words for which I don't know the meaning. But, I know this is my own issue--I'm sure there are plenty of others who enjoy the exhortations of a well-intentioned American yogis.

As for musical accompanyment, the drummer was good, I suppose, except that I forgot he was there most of the time.

(gads, I'm really such a b!tch in this post! yikes!)

There was one upside--at the very end as we all laid in corpse pose, the instructor unexpectedly approached each one of us and gently but firmly massaged our feet. It was delicious--her strong hands! All I could think of was, "more massage, please!" and then, "Hmm...even though I hated her class, with hands like that, I'll bet this woman would be killer in bed." That's how I'm going to choose to remember her.

I'll admit that I was having hormonally-induced crabbiness before arriving, but I left feeling more stressed than when I came. This was a total yoga failure for me. Yet again, I've learned the lesson that Open yoga sessions are not for me--I'm looking for gentle stretching, not aggressive meat pounding. My knees are still burning.