Yogaing

We went to up the wall at 1:30, got back by 3:45, and I decided to make it to Yoga at 4. Now, I can’t call myself a yogaer, even if that was a word. I’ve really never done it in a class before, and the only times I’ve attempted is when Kelly shows me this or that move. I decided not to miss this, however, because my friend who had recommended this place to me, kept mentioning the Yoga.

I hurried as not to be late, and then discovered that I was the only one interested. I swung in a hammock after my 2 hour climb, waiting for apparently a one-on-one yoga hour, and wondering when my life became so healthy.

I was pretty nervous at first. Ok, I was nervous the whole time. I’ve never had a real teacher, like I said, so I wasn’t sure what to do. She only spoke Chinese, which was actually kind of a relief. She still explained everything, or maybe said, “pickle pickle armpit squeeze” as she did the moves, but it was comforting to hear her voice.

If China has taught me anything, it’s flexibility. I had no idea what would happen, but I just watched and tried. Some more alarming moments was when she took her foot, held it with her angle near the opposite hip, then reached her fingertips to the ground, before sitting back. I followed her, realizing not only that I was supporting myself only by my fingertips and the top of my left foot, but also that I would have to do this move in reverse, bringing my fingertips to the ground and somehow standing up on one foot, hopefully without falling over.

The other tricky part was not knowing how long it would last. I guessed that the session would be an hour, but I had no idea how to gauge an hour in yoga-time. After what felt like it could have been an hour, we laid on the mat just breathing. I was certain this was my cool down breaths and that I had survived. As I was congratulating myself, the instructor turned over and began a move where we held our ankles and lifted our bodies to make an “o”. By the end I realized that break must have only been 20 minutes in.

Standing there, slightly bent with one leg twisted behind my opposite calf, and my arms in an unprecedented-interlock, I did start to understand why people do yoga. I must say, though that while I was sitting there on the outdoor wooden stage, desperately counting four breaths in and four breaths out, overlooking the Great Wall and a stone-lined stream, I got the biggest craving for pizza and beer.