Recently, I have returned to yoga. 2nd year I was a Bikram devotee, believing that the 90 minutes spent in the 105 degree room in 27 wildly & uncomfortably nauseating positions was character building and physically rewarding. After revisiting Bikram this summer and believing with every conviction that I was going to pass out in the middle of class, I shelved yoga until I discovered Ashtanga Yoga this fall. Although I am a far cry from a true yogi, Tucker’s Friday morning class at the AFC has opened me up to yoga in a new way. Yoga doesn’t have to be done in a claustrophobic sweat lodge to be challenging. I am not yet at a point where I can make Downward Dog look passably graceful, but I’m learning. Pushing through Friday morning’s dazed and confused requisite hangover and excreting unfiltered booze via my pores is difficult, but this 10:15 class is one that I have come to love. For those of you who are not up for the challenge of a pre-noon wakeup call on a weekendish morning, I’m sure that somewhere, in someway, you are practicing yoga like form.
For yogi form we should all aspire to, check out this video of Caitryn doing yoga. I made it for mProxy-Connection: keep-alive
Intro to Documentary Production class with Bill Reifenberger, and think that she absolutely rocked out (the Enya isn’t too shabby either).
I tried yoga once but took off for the mall halfway through class, as I had a sudden craving for a soft pretzel and world peace