Touching my toes

Last night’s yoga class focused on the forward bend. We spent almost 90 minutes stretching, loosening muscles and joints, learning a little about body mechanics.

Kevin, the instructor, pointed out that touching our toes (or the floor) wasn’t really the point of our exercises, but merely a small measure of our progress.

It’s been a while since I touched my toes without bending my knees. At the beginning of the lesson, I was a good 6 inches from the floor and my lower back went to Defcon One. But by the end of the lesson, I was able to touch the floor (while making sounds that would shake a Gitmo guard).

At one point I was looking back between my legs at a middle-aged woman, bent double with her elbows on the floor. Oh my.

Last night’s lesson erased any notion that yoga is not exercise. When it was over, I hobbled down the stairs to my car and had a good long cry.

3 thoughts on “Touching my toes

  1. I’m impressed that you were able to open your eyes while in such excruciating pain.
    Oh and please tell me you don’t have an advertisement across your behind like your volleyball fantasy gal.

  2. A good long cry? Were they tears of joy? I’m sure they were. Btw, I’ve done thousands of poses over the years and never once thought about Gitmo. Odd.

  3. Hope your instructor emphasizes NO COMPETITION with others in the class. You should be working within your own comfort zone or you risk injury – and you’re missing the mind/spirit aspect of yoga which is part of the whole.

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