My Yoga Journey
For years I wanted to do ‘it’ without knowing what ‘it’ really was. A stiff body from years of pounding my tiny frame over hither and yonder of mountain trails, hockey rinks, racquet courts, and lakes redefined the term stiff as a board. My physiotherapist once encouraged me (NOT) by saying the only stiffer person she knew was an 80 year old retired steer wrestler…Yikes!!!
Of course I couldn’t take the plunge (or is that lunge) into the scary world of yoga because I was too old, not flexible enough, didn’t own yoga clothing, blah, blah, blah…
The journey started in the early 2000’s with my bride of many years being tired of my incessant yoga mumbling, so under the xmas tree appeared a deck of yoga cards. Wow, it looked like the answer but Father procrastination still prevailed until that one moment of change.
Six months after the unveiling there I was crouched down on the dock at Manteo Beach Resort in Kelowna on Lake Okanagan. Behind the cover of boats and in the wee hours of the morning under the watchful eye of a few Canadian geese some of the most pathetic bending ever known to mankind started happening.
Fast forward a few weeks and the journey continued back in my basement in Calgary doing yoga (yes, a real class) from classes on the ONE network. All this for only a $2 per month channel subscription (the right price for a person of Scottish descent).
The next step, and a nerve racking one at that, was to purchase a yoga DVD and take the chance that someone at the check out stand might ask me some yoga question that would be better answered by Rodney Yee. (Note: I now own nearly 30 yoga DVD’s).
This journey took place over the course of a year and after purchasing some of that funny, tight fitting clothing along the way (why did I let my financial advisor talk me out of buying Lululemon shares back when they first started up). The question remained could I, or would I, ever take that unimaginable step of setting foot into a real yoga studio.
The drama unfolded innocently enough over several casual conversations with a good pal who owned the Patagonia store in downtown Calgary at the time. Eventually the so called pal was tired of the yoga chatter and bravado and said ‘either get your butt to Yoga Shala with me and my wife on Tuesday night at 6 or I’m coming to your house to get you’. Sheesh, I thought this Jason guy was my friend and now these stern words.
In what was one of the most terrifying moments of my life I funneled into the yoga room literally knocking people out of the way to find the deep dark corner that unfortunately didn’t exist. The instructor entered the room and seemed normal and just like everyone else who also seemed quite normal. Even her name, Kim, wasn’t from the world of fancy yoga names I expected.
The rest is history as my instructor from that day back in October 2004 is still my favorite teacher of all time (even though she is now hiding from me in another city) and 20 years later yoga is still a regular part of my fitness routine.
The new question is when will I get up the nerve to attend a yoga retreat?
I thank Mare, Jason and Kim for the greatest journey of my life and one that has kept me more active than ever into my late 50’s.
Namaste….
