Well, I'm doing yoga again. For me, writing this is roughly comparable to other people saying 'I'm quitting smoking again.'
We get up at 6:15 a.m., I groan, then we make all the funny poses while it's still dark outside. This morning, if a master yogi had been watching my misshapen, listing Downward Facing Dog, she would have murmured,'I see a little wind moving through the trees.' If a rocker had been watching me, he would have started humming "Shaking all Over."
Indeed. My Warrior 3 pose looks more like Warrior 2.12. My Sun Salutation looks like ,'Oh, hey, howzit...uh, what's going on?' My Corpse pose is good.
I feel better. But it's a struggle.
I've never been a sportsy guy. Unlike my younger brother, the Cyclist, and my older brother, the Whitewater Rafter, Wilderness Guide and Runner, I've always thought of sports as rather unhealthy. I do like hiking in the mountains, but I prefer ascending by chairlift, then descending on foot. Unless the descent takes more than two hours. In which case I prefer taking a taxi down to Base Camp.
But yoga feels good. I like feeling a little less creaky, a little more loose in the joints. I like lighting the candles and putting on the German synth musik from the nineteen-seventies. I like going slow, and concentrating on my breathing.
It'd be great if I could hire someone to do yoga for me, though....