Yoga!

I did something new last night.

I went to a yoga class with two of my friends.

The new part wasn't the yoga, I've done that in my living room. The new part was the class part. I haven't been to any kind of gym-like setting or class for a decade. Except for a weak attempt at one of those expensive boot camp things... At the midpoint check, I had actually gained pounds and inches (both) and was able to do fewer situps. And I got substantially slower at running a mile. To say that particular experience put me off of exercise for a while is an understatement. Although boot camps aren't a bad thing for everyone, it just didn't work for the 23-year old, boozey, cigarette-smoking, tired-eyed, unmotivated version of myself.

...And like I do so very often, I've strayed from the point.

Back to yoga.

I'm kind of a nervous person. Until I find a comfortable spot wherever I am, I'm freaked out. To the point of not being able to speak. I guess you could call it anxiety, but I've noticed it's more of a constant feeling of being intimidated by others. Which actually is probably a good thing. It gives me time to feel things out first before saying something offensive, which I can be very skilled at... Saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, that is.

So I went to yoga with my good friends Mollie and Betsy. Thankfully, these two people do not make me nervous. Mollie is quite skilled at yoga. Betsy claims she isn't very good, but I think she did really well. I'm a huge 6'1" oaf. Okay, I'm being hard on myself here, but when I try to do something that requires gracefulness, I feel like an oaf. I do. The rest of the class seemed to know what the instructor was talking about when she referred to different poses. I had to check to make sure I was doing it right several times. There were a few times when I knew I wasn't. There were also a few times I lost balance in a really dramatic-looking way. There were multiple times when I was glad that they had darkened the room and there was only some faint rope lights that were lighting the place.

After an overall-successful first try at yoga class (I say overall successful because I imagined my clumsiness being far worse), we did the lay there for a few minutes thing. Apparently this is what people do in yoga? I didn't know that. It was lovely. I felt great. I got to lay there and revel in the endorphins. And I got to just lay there and let my poor legs tingle back into feeling normal again. Because this "runner's lunge" or whatever it's called... Yeah. It's easy for the first two minutes. Until it's not. Then we got up and I got to hang onto the endorphin-high for longer than I do after my everyday cardio/strength/abs workout. Which was awesome. There's nothing like the feeling you get after a good sweat. I'm not kidding, I'm not a workout quack or anything, I'm serious. Give it a try.

Now. This morning. My arms hurt. Somehow, my poor lunged-to-death legs are in complete working order, free of any pain. But picking up my coffee cup was actually hard for me. Oh, but it's a good kind of sore. It's the kind where you know you actually accomplished something recently. I WILL be attending more yoga classes. Next time, I won't be as intimidated, so I'll probably be a bit more successful. I am really glad that I've been doing some poses in my living room, though. Otherwise it could have been a real disaster...

Pretty mats.

(P.S. I'm also half-way writing this post to keep myself accountable. I don't want to be one of those people who starts something, gets really excited about it, then never goes back. I have been that girl one too many times. And that is why this blog is called Chelsea Welsea Commits. Because I have a hard time with the follow-through sometimes...)