For years my exercise routine consisted of free weights and band resistance machines. Then the warranty on my skeletal system ran out and the message triggered by a set of x-rays was... no more lifting - anything.
I now needed to stretch my spine rather than adding to the load my spine had to carry. The physical therapist set me up with a series of exercises so basic that I didn't see how they could be classified as exercises at all (at least not after hefting barbells and dumbbells). Certainly I needed something more challenging if I was going to make progress.
So I signed up for yoga.
Now I was smart enough to know I wasn't going to immediately do handstands while one foot pointed to the sky and the other touched the small of my back. I accepted there would be a learning curve. I started with beginner yoga as a warm up.
I warmed up all right! At the thirty minute mark both my t-shirt and towel were thoroughly soaked. The mat beneath my hands and knees sported beads of water like a well waxed car following a spring shower.
The instructor had just led us into something called a half-crescent pose while quietly - and calmly- urging us to hold the position and feel the stretch. The only thing I felt was my chest heaving as I gasped for breath. That is until my legs starting shaking and I collapsed into an exhausted ball.
How had this happened? I mean - come on - it was only yoga after all.
