Yoga

Basking in the glory of unemployed-ness, I devised a brilliant plan to ward off the eventual horror that comes with having nothing to do all day and no one to play with. Even I tire of visiting joegoshe.com day after day only to realize that it still hasn’t been updated in the last month. (Perhaps this is due, in part, to me, but perhaps you should just lay off and appreciate all I do for you.) Anyways, without a job, my days consist mainly of grocery shopping, reading, and the occasional library trip. While I consider this a busy, fulfilling lifestyle, every now and then we have sufficient stockpiles of milk and cereal and Pat has no other food requests for me to acquire. It is on these rare days that I have decided to get the real, leaving-the-apartment, San Francisco experience. This adventurous spirit is what has driven me, the elusive and mostly sedentary Jeanne Goshe, to take up yoga. 

As if the world of yoga complete with its cleansing of mind and body alike is not absurd enough already, I should specify that I have joined the ranks of the newest and trendiest yogis in a special breed called Bikram Yoga. Those of you who are not celebrities and thus are not familiar with hip exercise fads like pilates and running, have probably never heard of Bikram Yoga.
I’ll tell you what it’s all about. Like your garden variety yoga, it is a series of postures that increase flexibility, concentration, and mental clarity, all the while making you look extremely silly. The part that is unique to Bikram is that the class is held in a sauna on the surface of Mercury. Actually, it’s done in a heated room with a temperature of about 100 degrees. It’s a wonderful concept for me, because as those who know me can verify, I’m not keen on moving around and “working” for my workout. The magic of bikram yoga, however, is that without leaving the area of a tiny mat, you sweat profusely for 90 minutes. And if I’m sweating, I know I must be accomplishing something. Better yet, if I am sweating so much that it pours down my face, burning my eyes and leaving me temporarily blind, I know I’m on the road to good health. They say that if you really commit to Bikram you will notice improvement with each session. Following, is my progress thus far:

Day 1: I learn that were I a gay man, I would be dressed highly inappropriately for class, as I don’t own a single pair of tiny Speedo bikini briefs. Fortunately, I blend in well with the beginning middle-aged women in the back of the room.

Day 2: I return despite the pain and exhaustion that followed the first class, if for no other reason than I paid 29 dollars and am determined to get my money’s worth. Screw muscle strength and immune system function – I won’t be suckered out of 29 bucks after one class. I also learned from my mistakes and wore a bandanna to prevent the painful union of my eyes and buckets of sweat.

Day 3: Spirits are a little low when I realize that I am at a significant disadvantage over other beginners. Apparently, no one else seems to experience difficulty standing with their toes and heels together. I curse my freakishly wide knees and try to cheat by moving my feet apart, but I am caught.

Day 4: I have purchased a new pair of shorts because my other ones are still unnervingly damp with sweat. I feel good and ignore the fact that I am incapable of doing some of the most simple things that don’t even qualify as postures. I don’t care that I can’t sit between my heels. At least I didn’t fall over fainting like the one girl in class.

Day 5: I took about 5 days off from yoga, and my flexibility has not improved. I am certain they turned the heat up 20 degrees to punish me.

Day 6: I experience a sense of monetary accomplishment as my hobby has now averaged to less than 5 dollars per class. I reward myself by cheating to make things easier on my brittle bones and refusing to concentrate on a point in the mirror during balancing postures. I instead choose to stare at the freaks in my class and their ugly tattoos.

Day 7: My right lower leg hurts something awful and I declare that I will never do yoga again. At least I’ll always have the permanent damage it has done to my body.