it's fun to play at the YMCA

guess what? We got a membership to the Y. It smells like socks there, but there are classes and a pool and the kids think it's heaven on earth. (and they watch your kids for free while you go to yoga)
Yesterday Layla had her art class for 2 hours, so Maggie and I went to the Y, so I could go to a yoga/pilates class (level I). I was a little nervous since I have taken about 3 yoga classes before, and what was stunningly clear, is that I am not balanced, coordinated or graceful, all of which are kind of important details when you are trying to do yoga, come to find out.
I dropped Mags at the kid watch and went off to find my class. Now, not to sound stereotypical, but I was feeling hesitant because the gals that do yoga are pretty cool. They wear matching spandex outfits-which they manage to look amazing in, can pull of the ridiculous poses without looking like complete asses, and never break a sweat. I climbed the stairs, and standing by the door (where I was told to go) there was an adorable little grandma, and another one was perched on a giant balance ball nearby. I asked them if they were here for the yoga class. "Yes indeed", replied the door monitor, "I have been doing yoga since the 70s." Great, my first class with a guru granny. The one on the ball jumped up and came over to introduce herself and "take me under her wing" since I had revealed it was my first time.
As she pushed our way into the semi darkness, she showed me where to get everything I would need for the class. I was handed a big elastic strappy thing, a foam brick and a blanket. I found my way to the middle of the classroom to lay out my yoga mat, and decided on a spot behind another nice grandma who was wearing a stunning pink suit consisting of cotton pants and a bowling shirt with a giant parrot embroidered on the back. This was getting good. As the other "students" filed in, I was starting to feel a little more comfortable. The teacher (or yogi, or whatever) told us to start relaxing and stretching, at which point Pink Parrot shirt turns to me and says, "listen Sweetie, don't watch me for the moves, I just had my hip replaced and I can't do them all just right". Check that. (I was so proud of myself, I managed to not even smile at that, all the while stowing it away to bring to you as a golden nugget later) Class was about to begin so our leader asked us to please stand up. Pink Parrot shirt squawked "but Honey! I just got down here!" (oh yes, this was the place for me)
There ended up being two older gentleman in the class as well, one was a shade ornery and kept mumbling things under his breath when we had to do ab work, (not very zen if you ask me) and at one point in class, let slip an, um, well, he tooted during some stretches. (still no smile from me, just cataloging for later enjoyment). It was going well, apparently this class was just my level of yoga! At one point we were supposed to "shake it out" and the teacher says "WOW-now THAT WAS STIMULATING!!" (slight grimace from me, I am just a beginner after all)
Near the end of class we were supposed to lay down and relax (something she told us we all really needed) and focus on some areas that needed attention. There is light music, and some water burbling from somewhere (too dark to notice, hoping it was a small fountain) and we all curled up for our senior nap time. At this point she goes around turning off every tiny light that was in the room so that we are now in complete darkness. Um, I happen to be afraid of the dark (well, not normally, but in a room full of strangers, that smells like socks, when I am due to pick up Layla soon and need to see the clock!!!) So she is talking really slow and gentle and it would probably actually be relaxing if not for the aforementioned reasons. I am supposed to be focusing on relaxing my third eye. (ok-what!?) she continues to mention everything that I need to focus on including my pinkie toe (I shit you not!) and the whole time I am thinking-I HAVE GOT to get out of here! I open my eyes, still black. There is no way I can sneak out of here. There is wall to wall geriatrics, it is pitch black, and I have to round up all of the crap I am using (stretchy band which we didn't even use) roll up my mat, find my shoes (where did I put those?).
I am starting to get nervous, negating all of the stretching and relaxing I have been working so hard for this past hour. I sit up on my mat (I am pretty sure I am not going to be invited back) she has asked up previously to "not shift" on account of we might bother our neighbor and knock them back into consciousness or something. I stand up, trying to get my bearings, and she rushes over (what are you doing?!) I have to go, she promises me it will only be 3 more minutes. I lay back down. What?! that's right, I slump back onto my mat and lay there thinking of the crap I am getting into leaving Layla at art class so I can nap here with my new yoga buddies. Awesome. Finally, like a lifetime later, she says we can get up. Someone goes and turns one tiny light on, it was enough for me. I jump up, knock pink granny out of the way, throw my brick at the bin and dash out of the door with my mat flying out behind me like some kind of crazy rubber cape. Out the door, down the stairs, (practically flying) to scoop Maggie out of kid watch (where she of course wants to stay, and have snacks and paste noodles to her forehead), jump in car, zoom to art school, only to get stuck in road construction. I was a few minutes late picking up Layla-she didn't even notice. I think I really like yoga, and the YMCA, I have never felt so good about myself as when I hang out there. I think next time I will bolt before the end nap/self centering bit and it should all work out just fine.