Spanish Yoga

I have been neglecting my yoga practice. Even back in the US, before we left I wasn’t being diligent. I was eating junk food and not myself. So I looked up a studio near our apartment and emailed the yogi to inquire about classes. Could I take an introductory one, could I go if I don’t understand Spanish yoga terms very well? Sergio emailed me back and said to come.

So, I left Jeff at home and took myself to the yoga studio. It’s in an apartment building on Dr. Vincent Zaragoza street. The shady looking guy lingering in the doorway told me where to go. And it turned out he was right. I was greeted genuinely by the yogi and told – more mimed – how it would go, where to put my stuff and everything. I did as I was told and then he took me into the studio.

I was early so I did some meditation and breathing as others began to arrive. The yogi introduced me and others in the class were surprised to learn where I was from and that I know zero Spanish but am trying to take a yoga class. They were very helpful as I made some errors.

They asked me ‘Do you know yoga?’  I told them I did and had taken classes in many cities so it’s OK that I am not familiar with the studio here. They smiled and then the class began. This was not a ‘Scottsdale bored house-wife’ yoga. This was not a ‘Seattle intense hot’ yoga. Or a NYC ‘Quasi-soul cycle’ yoga. This was the real deal.

We weren’t flowing and just doing poses as best we could. Nooo. This yogi adjusted everything I did. We did ‘Oommm’s’ and other chants. There weren’t a lot of poses, but they were intense. Incredible controlled breathing. It was HARD. And today, I’m more sore than I ever was at any previous yoga class I have ever taken.

I’m going back again on Tuesday. I figure if I do this a couple times a week I won’t need to join a gym. And my chi should be aligned in no time. Namaste