Zen Whatever.
Nothing makes me less relaxed than yoga.
Still, when my girlfriend suggested we try a new place called FLOW, I figured I could use the ohm after so much ugh. Plus, the studio is next to Whole Foods and they have the most amazing $900 nectarines right now.
From the minute I tip-toed into FLOW, I was a portrait of anger management. Yogis just piss me off. Always have, always will. They think they’re so cool, cracking their toes and standing up sooo straight.
(I played Suzuki violin, I can get my posture on too, ya jerks.)
Plus, I’m just not that into people w/ water bottles.
I had this spastic urge to scream, “I eat milkshakes for lunch and meditate to Netflix and I’m still happier, healthier and younger-looking than any of you freaks!” Like I said, Yogis irrationally piss me off.
(Except for Kathe Hambrice- she’s a close pal, and a private instructor in Pilates, which is NOT Yoga, but relevant enough to mention. Contact her at: healthyandstrong@gmail.com. A beautiful person inside and out…Even I’d LOVE to sweat with her.)
When my friend, Rachel, mouthed, “115 mintues left to go!” I literally said: I hate you. And she’s like, my favorite person. Call it Adult A.D.D. or bad attitude, but I can’t do anything for that long. Not showering, not chit-chatting, not sex and certainly not downward dogs.
Luckily, it was only a 50-minute class. And while I rolled my eyes the entire time, slowly plotting the murders of every lanky Wasp in sight, I kind-of want to do it again. Afterall, I wrote this entire blog in my head…while on my head.
Let’s see how I feel tomorrow.
