The class was in Chelsea, at a studio called YoGanesh (a combination of "yoga" and "Yo, Ganesh," the Hindu elephant god) which was pretty much a narrow room and some cubbies for shoes and bags. Seven other people showed up. All of us were clearly athletic, but I knew the instant class started that I was among friends because six of them were just as inflexible as I was. It was great. The poses themselves weren't any different from other yoga classes I've taken, but it was incredible to be on the same level as everyone else in the room. No one had dreadlocks, and there was no talk about cleansing herbal teas, prayer flags, or meditation. Everyone was there just because they wanted to be in better shape for running, and it was very refreshing. Instead of listening to Tibetan flute music or ocean waves, we listened to U2 and African-sounding rap with a mellow beat. Our instructor encouraged us to stretch farther by saying things like, "Your goal is to get your chest on the floor," but it was clear she didn't mean it. There was no way that was ever going to happen for any of us and she knew it. I mean come on. We were runners.
There is none of this nonsense in Yoga for Runners. |
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