I finally made it to an Intro to Ashtanga class and was pleasantly surprised. I could do it and not die! It was actually not as hard as my morning solo torture at home. It was definitely not as hard as the workshop I went to last month (I am still shocked that I did not expire during that workshop!).
The instructor, Julia Toy, was really great. I liked her voice and her laugh. I like anyone who can laugh during Ashtanga. The most pleasant surprise was my youngest brother coming with me to class! It made it even more awesome. I like practicing with my family. He really enjoyed it, although at one point he looked at me and said, “This sh%t is no joke!”.
I am considering trying the Level 1/Level 2 class this week. I can do it!! I am consistently amazed by how crippling my fear of yoga in public can be…it’s crazy. It’s like yoga agoraphobia. There’s also frequently an intense fear of pain, of injury, of moving the wrong way and just hearing something snap or tear. Or, of having things *move* around physically and feeling the corresponding hideous, sticky, grimy, emotional release. Sometimes I feel like I have invisible black psychic goo oozing out of my pores, and I’m the only one who can see it. It’s very much like the above scene from Dune—like I have put my whole body in that box every time I step on the mat.
Hit the mat 6 times this week, with an extra 7th time for the Yin yoga “Stress Relief” class I took last Monday night. I am going to go again tomorrow night…the dreaded Yin. I’d rather have my a$$ handed to me during Ashtanga than take a Yin class any day of the week. Yin is soooo stressful! I can barely walk after. I have hips of steel. It’s extremely good for me—I spend the whole class in tears and it makes me far more grateful for my 5am home practice, ha ha. Yin is all about surrender. Apparently, I like to sob hysterically until I break while oozing invisible evil black goo. That’s my surrender.