Earlier this year, I signed up for a yoga course. I've taken yoga classes here and there before. I occasionally joined my fellow climbers for Yoga for Climbers (strangely enough) on a drop-in basis, and I once took a yoga P.E. so I could qualify for student aid (seriously). Although it's not considered very "yoga" to compare your yoga skillz with those of your classmates, I do it anyway. And on the grand scale of "athletic things I'm pretty good at even though I haven't done it all that much", yoga ranks fairly highly. Those skills that helped me succeed (moderately) at gymnastics have carried over into this, my more sedate athletic adulthood.
So when it came time to get more active in Beijing, I went looking for yoga.
Not only is is alluring because of my native abilities (making it so much less frustrating and disheartening than other athletic pursuits), but it also has a strong focus on strength and control: things that my particular joint issues respond well to. And, I was hoping for a little help for my shoulders.
Some of you are aware of my shoulder complaints. After some youthful exuberances turned disastrous (and then promptly ignored), an adult life of typing and a top-heavy body shape have left me with some rather sad excuses for shoulder muscles. I was particularly worried when my former roommate-turned physical therapist explained to me how heating packs will actually melt the collagen in muscles, which then reform in less-than-ideal ways.
My hope was that some focused attention to strength and flexibility might help my shoulders work again. Hope.
And wouldn't you know, two weeks ago I was walking through school and I noticed that I was standing up straight. Not standing, but standing up straight. And it's not that I can't stand up straight, it's just that I usually don't. So to notice that I was doing it unconsciously? That was pretty cool.
The teacher is pretty cool: she skips the "ohms" but still keys into using the practice as a working meditation. We are encouraged to pay attention to how we feel, and work out accordingly. It's a lot like I've lived my life, actually — walking that line between wimping out and risking injury. (Seriously, this knee is a time bomb, but I'm not going to spend all my time sitting on the couch.)
Needless to say, I've signed up for the next round of classes.
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