Skip to main content

Strange denizens of the yoga studio.

I love yoga. I love my yoga studio. I do not, however, love all my fellow students. Allow me to introduce.... strange denizens of the yoga studio. 

The Jingler. 
This woman wears more jewelry than Mr. T. And every necklace and bracelet has various charms. It only takes the tiniest shift in body positioning to sound like a bell choir. Thank you, Jingler, for adding your personal soundtrack to the class.

The Porno-breather.
Yes, yoga is all about breath. I work hard to make my inhales and exhales sound like a mockery of Darth Vador. But, Mr. Porno-breather, you scare me. The HVAC noises that you emit nearly block out the instructor's commentary. Frankly, I think you're just showing off.

Anti-antiperspirant Man.
Ah, geez. Does this even need mentioning? We're in a heated studio. In the summer. Doing an activity that requires deep breathing. I don't care if you're Matthew McConaughey, do us all a favor and throw on some Speedstick.

The Gadget Gal. 
I'm not talking about yoga props. Her mat is surrounded by towels, keys, a cup of water, cell phone, extra t-shirt, a watch, hair accessories and socks. See the wall at the back of the room? Those are shelves. Give 'em a shot.

The Preemptive Poser.
The PP likes to anticipate the next pose. She's always one step ahead, unless she's wrong. Which is almost all the time. PP's aren't really bothersome unless they're on the mat next to you. Then you spend the class fascinated by how many times they screw up. (Maybe that's just me. I've always been competitive.)

Ms. Madonna Arms.
I have no complaints about you except that I am jealous. Seriously, all you do is yoga? No weights? No swimming? No P90X? Because I covet your arm definition. You are an inspiration. Or a freak of nature.

Feel like I should end on a positive note, but just don't have one today. Namaste. 

Comments

  1. BeccaJuly 3, 2009 at 7:51 PM

    Um...I love this blog entry, but I will post what everyone is thinking. You left out the obvious Yoga Enthusiast: The Gas Passer. I know there is a gas passer found in every gym activity, doing squat thrusts next to you in the weight room, on the tread mill, and in Step Aerobics class, but is it not so much more blatantly obvious in yoga?
    Namaste!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

White Elephant Gone Wrong

I don't like white elephant (WE) gift exchanges. Yes, they may include laughter and good-natured teasing (I prefer bad-natured teasing), but they include the stress of finding the perfect gift. Plus, I don't believe in re-gifting trash. A box full of old magazines is not a good WE gift. No one wants it. Therefore, you are done with the exchange if you pick this gift, which is what happened to Husband. My viewpoint is not shared with most people. One of those people is my stepmom who in recent years has included WE exchanges at our family Christmas.  However, this year I was excited. If you have read my blog, you will know Husband is a saver. (We do not use the word hoarder.) We're also trying to get rid of stuff we no longer need. Husband also has friends that give him funny, ridiculous items that he saves. You can see how all this would add up to somehow already having the perfect WE gift.  So there was hope. I'd already identified it - the velvet picture of a
Post a Comment
Read more

Holiday Homestretch

Two weeks off, people. After today, it will be sixteen lovely days until I return to the world of meetings, projects and deadlines. Sixteen days. Christmas break is such a lovely perk to working in higher education. Those in the corporate world, feel free to brag about bonuses, profit sharing and the like. On your own blog, of course. There are no big plans, other the the normal holiday family visits, which suits me just fine. Initially, I thought a few days would be spent painting the living room. It's embarrassing how long there have been drywall patches showing, but whatever. We have a baby. Nothing gets done. I've accepted it. However, Husband surprised me by having a painter take care of it last week. Hallelujah! Two days of freedom regained. Now the home improvement snowball has started. New mantle for the fireplace. New vanity for the bathroom. Paint the hallway. Tile the backsplash. We'll be lucky if we get one done before spring. We're also contemplatin
Post a Comment
Read more

Get This Party Started

So what do you do when you're reclining in a hospital bed, Olympic beach volleyball on the TV and watching petocin slowly drip through an IV into your arm? You blog. As of 3:32pm, all is manageable. Ask me in an hour or two and the tune will most likely be different. Petocin scares the crap out me, but as long as it gets the baby out of me, I'm trying to not freak out. I woke up this morning and greeted the day as a normal Monday. After walking Trudy a few miles and spending 40 minutes on the elliptical, it dawned on me I felt a little crampy, for lack of a better term. And without getting too graphic, I started to wonder if my water had broken. (It was nothing like it's portrayed on television.) So I called a handful of friends and my sister to get some feedback. All signs pointed to yes, so I called my doctor's office which said just go to the hospital. I took Trudy for a second walk while waiting for Husband to get home and try not to overreact. At the hospi
2 comments
Read more