The first ten minutes of the “AM Yoga” workout went pretty well. Aside from the fact that I used a fleece blanket instead of a yoga mat, and that I didn’t have much stability on the fleece over the carpet (but did not want to ditch the blanket, as the carpet in that particular area was heavily infested with goldfish cracker crumbs, pieces of half-chewed nuts, bits of cereal and lost cookies) so some of the heavily lunging poses saw me sliding ever closer to the ground (and to a nastily pulled groin muscle if I wasn’t careful). I don’t have any stomach muscles at all, and I’ve never done yoga, so I spent a lot of my poses peering at Super-Buff-Dude-In-Bicycle-Shorts to figure out what the effing hell the narrator meant by “dropping the shoulders” when this guy clearly had both his hands straight up over his head.
All that aside, I rather enjoyed it. I sucked, of course, but not so badly that there is absolutely no hope for improvement without serious professional help. (Honestly, when I did the pilates workout, I might as well have been trying to do a double toe loop into a camel spin. Perhaps I should mention that I don’t know how to ice skate.) It went pretty well, and then…life interrupted. The Podling wanted to know why I was lying on the floor breathing, and where SBDIBS went (the DVD flipped to calming scenery during the relaxation and visualization portion, which was fine by me since I didn’t really want to be staring at SBDIBS’s crotch bump twitch with each inhalation), and none of my answers seemed to satisfy him. He moved to the screen and began pointing at distant hills, the beach, the forest, or whatever the screen changed to, and asking if “that man” was there. Answers of “he’s sleeping,” “I don’t know,” “he went home,” and “yes, he’s right there” were unsuccessful. So was “go away.”
After the relaxation and visualization part (which I enjoyed, mostly because you just lie there and breathe), you’re supposed to sit up and cross your legs and do the part I call “the ohm’s,” because in cartoons that’s what you do when you sit that way with your hands on your knees with your thumbs and forefingers together. You go, “OHMMMMMMMMMM!!!” really loudly, almost like you just caught your brother poking holes in the couch upholstery with a fork and the next words out of your mouth will be, “I’m gonna tell Mooo-ooom!”
That’s about when the Peanut woke up, and began to wail at being abandoned while she slept. I soldiered on. I was determined to finish this workout and get lots of rays of mother-humping minerals and energy and crap into my spine so I could flow out to the world around my skin, or something like that. It was hard to concentrate on what the guy was saying, frankly.
Next thing I knew, a cold wet nose rubbed on my right hand, followed by very silky, very ticklish fur. Taka, our long-haired white cat had found me sitting still and not really doing anything, and she took advantage of that to gently hint that I should be petting her. When I didn’t, she stepped into my lap and turned around twice, then plopped down and arched her back over my leg, looking up at me expectantly. I opened an eye. She meowed. This continued for as long as I sat there.
The last ten minutes or so went something like this:
“…bring your hand up and pinch your right nostril closed. Inhale through your left nostril…”
“Where dat man go? He ober dere?” The plink plink plink of a plastic screwdriver tapping the TV screen.
“…continuing your deep breathing through alternate nostrils. This technique…”
“MEOW.” Tail flick, swish and flop. “MOWWW.”
“Feel your spine anchored to the earth beneath you, straight and tall. Rock from side to side like a blade of grass in the wind–”
“He’s dere? Mama, Mama! Mama, he’s ober dere?” Plink.
“–so all the healing in the world around you can enter into your being, swirling around in your skin. Feel it build inside you, filling you with–”
“MEOW?” Swish, swish. Cold nose on my forearm.
Replay that for about ten minutes, and you’ll have some idea of how it went.
I think I’ll try it again tomorrow.