Archive for the Yoga Category

« Older Entries
Newer Entries »

Yoga and injuries

Posted in Fitness, Medical, Yoga with tags , , , on January 20, 2011 by Karmela

I’m injured, and yes, yoga caused it. At first I was in denial. Sure I could admit that yoga contributed to the injury, but I thought it was more a combination of the yoga plus the kickboxing plus the grand battements plus a possible lack of proper hydration (dries out the joints).

But no. It’s the yoga. Nothing else I’ve done in my life—not ballet, not kickboxing—has ever caused this much pain. Plus the timeline is unmistakable.

I upped my yoga practice around March of last year. In April, the first twinges of my butt pain started, but nothing I couldn’t handle. It was more twinge than actual pain, right where the cheek ended and my thigh started on the left side. I was convinced it would heal on its own. My chiropractor, who was treating me for an unrelated injury, worked on it some, but it didn’t go away. Then I discovered Ashtanga right around April. The primary series is rife with forward bends and twists. The pain began to steadily intensify after that, but it was so incremental that I could always power through it. By springtime, sitting started to hurt. So I went to a highly-recommended massage therapist and acupuncturist, convinced that a combination of the two alternative therapies would erase the pain for good. They worked on me throughout the summer and early fall, and while I received relief, it was temporary at best and the pain came roaring back, each time more acute than ever.

Meanwhile, I continued practicing yoga. Matter of fact, I was getting better, stronger, more stretchy. I was rockin the headstands and arm balances. While I couldn’t put my forehead all the way down on the left side in the Janu Sirsasanas, I could on the right side. So I wasn’t that worried yet. But the pain was still continuing to worsen, so finally, I decided to go see a proper doctor.

Before you yell at me for not having gone to a doc early on in my injury, I need to disclose my love/hate relationship with the medical establishment. Let’s just say my family has had a long and painful history with all things western medicine-related and let’s leave it at that, but this was why I was wary about seeing an M.D. Luckily a colleague was currently undergoing pain treatments for multiple injuries to her spine and she told me about her docs who believed not only in healing the injury (as opposed to simply making the pain go away with narcotics and drugs), but that they also specialized in non-surgical treatments. Yay! Docs after my own heart.

So I went to go see them. Initial diagnosis: ischial tuberosity, which is a fancy medical term for “pain in butt.” Possible cause: lack of proper hydration, causing the tendons and ligaments to dry up over time. They first gave me two cortisone shots, one on each butt cheek. The pain relief was immediate, but alas, temporary. So they decided to let me undergo something called prolotherapy, which involves shooting me up with a dextrose solution deep into the areas of pain to promote inflammation and letting my body’s natural healing mechanisms heal the new inflammation. Yep, you guessed it—more pain on top of pain. But this treatment method is designed to heal instead of hide the pain.

The bad news: because this treatment is designed to heal, the process is long-term and I will most likely not improve until after multiple treatments that are not covered by insurance months and months from now.

The good news: I finally have a firm diagnosis on the cause: yoga. Okay, this isn’t “good” news, but it’s always a relief to find out what’s causing your body’s malfunction. And no, my doc didn’t actually say “yoga.” What he said was “chronic misalignment of your sacroiliac joint,” meaning my SI joint slips out of place all the time now. Every time he sees me, it’s been out of whack.

I wondered as to what could be causing this chronic misalignment so off to the Interwebs I went. And lo, look what I found! Says right here there are four causes of SI pain: traumatic, biomechanical, hormonal and joint inflammatory disease. And under “biomechanical,” this is what it says:

Pain due to biomechanical injuries will usually come on over a period of time and often with increased activity or a change in occupation/sport etc. The most common biomechanical problems include:

  • Leg length discrepancy
  • Overpronation
  • ‘Twisted pelvis’
  • Muscle imbalances

“Over a period of time?” “With increased activity?” A “change in occupation/sport?”

That could only mean one thing: my yoga practice.

If and when my docs manage to correct/heal my ischial tuberosity and SI pain, I don’t know what this will mean for continuing my practice since I don’t know specifically what ABOUT my practice is causing my SI joint to get misaligned. Is it the twists? The hyper-forward bending? Is it a specific asana?

Or maybe (and I cringe as I’m about to type this), I should quit practicing altogether. (No!)

Hubby went to the doc with me this morning and he learned how to slip my SI joint back in place. So maybe that’s all it will take for a pain-free existence—for someone to knock the joint back in place on a daily basis. Or maybe, on the other extreme, I will need to stop practicing altogether (oh the humanity!).

But hopefully I can find some kind of middle ground that will make yoga still accessible while remaining injury and pain-free. In the meantime, I’m off the prolo and moving on to something called Plasma-rich Platelet (PRP) therapy. Let’s hope it works. But what to do about yoga in the meantime?

On the one hand, the injury has greatly humbled me. I used to think nothing of my ability to fold forward and touch my forehead to my knees. Utthita Hasta Padangusthasana was a breeze. I took my stretchiness for granted, my body for granted.

Now, I struggle through the most basic of poses. Padahasthasana with straight knees has become impossible. Now when I look around the room whenever we’re doing a what-used-to-be-an-easy asana that I’m struggling through, and I see my fellow participants breezing through it, I feel frustration. But I know I can’t force it. THAT would be the worst thing I can do.

It’s a good thing yoga is not a competitive sport. Far from it actually—all my teachers emphasize the breath first, asana a faaaaar second. They all tell me to listen to my body, do only what’s accessible. And most of all, they all tell me to focus on myself and no one else.

Now more than ever, I need to internalize their teachings deep into my being and live it off the mat. Maybe if I’m successful, this—plus the medical treatments—are what will finally get me over the injuries.

1 Comment »

The torture of early morning practice

Posted in Yoga with tags , on January 19, 2011 by Karmela

Ashtanga yoga is my favorite yoga practice bar none. Lots of things to love about it—the sequence of asanas, the length, the variety, the challenge of it all.  I love the comprehensiveness of the practice (forward bends! backbends! binds! leg balances! arm balances! headstands! cardio!) and the community of ashtangis in my area. However, there is one aspect of Ashtanga yoga I find particularly unfortunate: the early morning practice, a.k.a. “crack-of-dawn” practice or COD.

What does COD practice entail and how early are we talking about, you ask? Depends on what you wanna do. If I wanna catch a mysore class, my studio begins at 6:30 am, but there are others in the area that start as early as 5:30 am. If I wanna practice in my living room, I have to begin around 4:45 am or so and stop by 6:00 am so I have time to perform the cook/fix lunches/feed-and-clothe kids/get-them-out-the-door daily waltz, not to mention get myself ready for work.

I know that COD practice is more tradition than hard-and-fast rule. I know I can practice anytime I want, as much or as little as I want. But the older I get, the more I respect traditions. Must have something to do with the aging process, as in traditions are old and should be respected, just like elderly ol’ me. And it isn’t that I have trouble getting out of bed (I don’t) or the fact that my energy levels aren’t where I want them to be during that time of day. If I practice often enough, I know it would be just a matter of time before my circadian rhythms acclimated to COD.

What I don’t like about COD practice is that during that time of day, I have no flexibility at all. None, zero, zilch. My body is so stiff I can barely touch my knees in a forward bend, let alone go into a full uttanasana (which I can do any other time of day). One time I posted this very complaint on my Facebook page, to which one of my teachers replied, “But that time of day is when your body is the most honest.”

Seriously, I appreciate that. I know I should listen to my body, and if it’s telling me, by every pop and twinge and outright pain that I shouldn’t be doing a certain asana, then I listen. But is it telling me to stop because I’m still stiff from having just woken up, or because I have no business doing that particular asana? See, there’s a difference, right? How do you recognize one vs. the other?

One last point: in the wintertime, practicing in the morning becomes doubly hard because of the temps. I can’t heat up my living room to my desired yoga-practice temperature of 85 degrees. Anything lower than that (and my house is usually a cooler-but-still-comfy 67 degrees) risks pulled muscles. One more reason I like practicing at night, after my house has been sufficiently warmed up by kids jumping and running and crashing into furniture.

Tonight, I’m teaching my usual back-to-back 30 minute Core class and 1 hour Kickboxing. You’d think I’d have no energy to do anything else after that but drive home and collapse, right? But right after my Kickboxing class is when I’ve come to love practicing the full primary series. (Shhh…I know it’s a moon day and shouldn’t be practicing, but I have Prolo again tomorrow and will be benched for the next four days yet again.) And I’m really, really looking forward to it. What did another teacher say? Ah yes, the primary series is “meditation in motion.”

Leave A Comment »

Top 10 Reasons Why I Love Ashtanga

Posted in Yoga with tags on September 22, 2010 by Karmela

A few weeks ago, one of my esteemed yoga teachers remarked on my love of Ashtanga. She knows I’m easily bored (self-diagnosed ADD) and so yeah, it surprised me too that I fell in love with a practice that has a set sequence and doesn’t change from class to class (unless of course you move your practice up to the next series). So what is it about Ashtanga that struck the right chord with me?

  1. The variety. And I don’t mean the fact that Ashtanga has a little bit of everything. It actually has a lot of a lot of things. Meaning it has a lot of standing poses, sitting poses, some backbends, inversions, arm balances, shoulder balances, binds, twists, easy poses, more challenging ones—you name it, the primary series has it. I like it that I can cover all the skills in the course of the series.
  2. The challenge of memorizing the sequence. It’s just like remembering choreography, which greatly appeals to the dancer in me. And just like a dance routine, you can go through the motions of the sequence, or you can put life and feeling into it, perform it with more abandon and awareness.
  3. The progression. The primary series is friendly to every level, from the überbeginner to the twisty pretzel. Variations on each asana abound in David Swenson’s book.
  4. The ease of self-practice. I used to loathe working out on my own. Yoga was no different. Actually, yoga was even tougher for me to practice on my own because of my lack of knowledge on the asanas and sequencing. I didn’t know how to “choreograph” a proper yoga workout. But with Ashtanga, the sequence is set, and so there’s no problem with figuring out what comes next. Now, I don’t even practice with the lights on or with music in the background. No need for any of those accoutrements in Ashtanga. I just practice. I even chant in the beginning.
  5. The length of the sequence. This is a subset of #2. I used to whine that The sequence so long! and I’ll never memorize the whole thing! But you know what? It’s just like anything else. The more you do it, the more you know it. Another surprise for me: because it’s movement, I seem to have an easier time memorizing it. Now I love it that the standing sequence + primary series + finishing sequence is so long, because it contributes to the variety and my lack of boredom. And it makes my brain work.
  6. The jump-back/jump throughs: Ashtanga is a great combination of holding still and flowing movement. The asanas make you hold still and the jump backs/jump throughs let you flow. I think someone told me once that it was derived from British gymnasts practicing their routines next to yogis during Colonial India. Who knows? But this move is awesome. It incorporates balance, strength, core work and cardio all rolled into one (or two). Plus, it gives me an outlet to move in between holding steady.
  7. The binds. The primary series has some awesome binds. This is the area where I’ve really seen a measurable improvement in my practice. Where before I could barely grab my fingertips in Marichyasana C, I can now grab my wrist on both sides. Very rewarding.
  8. The noticeable improvement. Doing the same moves over and over and over again makes you work on the same asanas every time, which means you can get better because you’re practicing the same thing. My current goal: a full bind on the left side for Marichyasana D.
  9. The pace. I love love love it that Ashtanga MOVES. One of my teachers actually plays techno music during class, and it fits. Ashatanga is vigorous and active.
  10. Garba Pindasana. This is perhaps the funnest and funniest move of all of yogadom. You ever try it? First, there’s the impossible task of slipping your arms through your full lotus. If you’re not drenched with sweat by the time this asana comes up, lubing up is required. Then, you rock on your back around your mat, and this never fails to crack up the class. Ashtanga isn’t all serious, see? And then on the last rocking, you have to get yourself up and at ‘em into Kukutasana, a hella awesome arm balance.

There you have it. My ode to Ashtanga. It’s such a popular school of yoga that I’m sure tons of other people have done their own odes, but these are the reasons why I love it so. Shanti, shanti, shanti ommm..

6 Comments »

Last Week of Mysore

Posted in Yoga with tags , on September 1, 2010 by Karmela

Sadly, the upcoming start of the school year means an end to my attendance at Mysore classes. Sniff…can’t go to early-morning class and get the kids ready for school at the same time. Moms of elementary-aged kids know from whence I speak off—I can’t imagine that moving an Army battalion across the Iraqi desert could be more difficult.

Anyway, what this also means is that I gotta beef up the self-practice, which, together with Mysore, is how one ideally learns Ashtanga. I practiced by my lonesome in the wee hours this morning in the comfort of my family room, and I gotta say, right now, it’s  looking kinda sloppy. Couldn’t properly bind in Marichyasana D, couldn’t lock my feet together in Supta Kurmasana, totally forgot Garbha Pindasana and I think I put in one Chakrasanas too many. Or maybe I didn’t do them where they’re supposed to go. See? I’m all over the place. But I don’t want to practice with a video because I want to learn and internalize the sequence, and I don’t want to use cheat sheets and practice cards cause they interrupt the flow. I guess this is why they call it “practice.” The more I do, the more I’ll get it right. Hopefully. And I’m still hoping to occasionally join led classes here and there, as the ol’ schedule permits.

Back to Mysore tomorrow with the fabulous Antonella Accinelli at Half Moon Studio. Will try to savor every second of it.

Leave A Comment »

Do I love yoga for the wrong reasons?

Posted in Yoga on August 31, 2010 by Karmela

Let’s get semi-serious for a moment. Since immersing myself more into the world of yoga, I’ve come to a sinking realization that I may be in love with the practice for all the wrong reasons. Not that I’ve done a survey of yogis and asked them why they love it, but I suspect that my reasons and their reasons diverge just a smidge. See, I love yoga…

Because I’m good at it.There. I said it. When I practice with a group, I’m usually one of the better ones in the room. And I like it. But that’s wrong, I know. Yoga is supposed to be without ego, without judgment. So how come I feel inordinately pleased when I can get into a pose that challenges other people?

Because it makes me look good. See above. Not only does it make me look good on the mat but it makes me look good afterwards too. As in I have leaner muscles and flatter abs. And (sigh…) I know yoga is supposed to transcend the caring of our physical appearance, but…crap.

Because it’s hard. Is it unyogic of me to love yoga because I love a challenge?  When something is easy, it bores me. I blame it on my self-diagnosed ADD.

Because it makes me feel strong. I occasionally go to yoga forums and see teachers write stuff like, ‘Yoga isn’t about strength,’ or ‘Yoga isn’t about holding the pose.’ Well dammit, when I lift and hold myself up in Astavakrasana, it does make me feel strong. Which brings me to…

Because I’m goal-oriented. I do know that yoga is all about patience and the journey, so I don’t see that being goal-oriented is necessarily unyogic.  But I do know that MY version of being goal-oriented (methodical, dogged focus) doesn’t leave much room for patience and enjoying the journey. All I need to do is look back and and see how I conquered Sirsasana A. It’s a good thing my very wise teacher coached patience and only doing five a day. Otherwise I probably would have broken my neck.

Because it’s the only activity I do that engages my body and mind in razor-sharp, symbiotic focus. This reason might be a good one to like yoga. When I’m on the mat, I think of nothing else but putting myself in the proper position, inside (the bandhas, the breathing) and out (my limbs, my gaze). I don’t think about the kids, work, my to-do list, nothing else.

Man, now that I’ve read this, I sound even more unyogic than I thought. I’m supposed to love yoga for the practice itself, not what it can do for me, right? That way, we can truly immerse ourselves in the full practice, inside out, on and off the mat, and live a better life for it. I’m thinking it should kinda be like the way you’re supposed to love your kids for them, and not because they’re cute or funny or whatever other positive characteristics they possess.

I’m definitely not there yet with my practice. But I want to be. Luckily, I’m goal-oriented so perhaps one day, I’ll get there. ;-)  In the meantime, I’ll be the one on the mat practicing Bakasana again and again and again. Until I collapse in exhaustion. But I betcha it’ll be with a smile on my face.

Namaste.

2 Comments »

Mysore: One Week Later

Posted in Yoga with tags , on August 27, 2010 by Karmela

So it’s been more than a full week since I’ve taken my first Mysore class and I’m delighted to report that it’s even more awesome than I expected. Wanna know how? Can’t talk about Mysore classes in general since I’ve only gone to one studio but let me do my…

Top 10 Reasons Why I Love Mysore at Half Moon Studio:

  1. The individual attention. At first I was like, how in the world can a teacher go around the room providing individual attention when everyone’s doing something different? But you know what? This teaching method has been around for a long time because, yep, it actually works. My fab teacher, Stair Calhoun, comes around and spends a lot of time with each of her students, to the point where when her attention is focused on me, I feel like I’m the only student in the room.
  2. The self-paced nature. Again, this was one of those things that I had a hard time swallowing. Because I’m a dancer first, I’m a slave to the rhythm of choreography, which is why I love Ashtanga so much. A set sequence of the same moves. But in Mysore, we don’t do them together. Everyone is basically dancing the same piece but to different music, or at least, different speeds of music. I thought I would find it distracting. But know what? I’m eating my words again cause I love it. I can breeze through the poses that I know, slow down and really work on the ones I find challenging, and flow at my own internal rhythm.
  3. The masterful hands-on adjustments. Stair spends a good amount of time ever-so-carefully, millimeter by millimeter, putting me into Supta Kurmasana. She also dips me in backbends. She wouldn’t be able to do those things in a led class.
  4. The individualized approach to teaching. Today, my teacher designed, on the spot, an entire practice for a student who couldn’t put pressure on her wrists. In Ashtanga, where you spend a good amount of time jumping back and forward between your arms, in Chaturanga Dandasana, and in downward-facing dog, this could be very limiting. But the studio was equipped with a wall of what looked like trapeze equipment, and the student was able to do the standing sequence using the straps and wall with no pressure on her wrists. She even did a headstand that was really cool. I wanted to do it. Looked like fun.
  5. The internal vs. external focus. Because each student is practicing different parts of the sequence, you’re usually in a certain asana all by yourself. In a led class, where everyone’s doing the same thing, I usually can’t help but glance around the room to see how everyone’s doing. I can’t help it. The teacher in me wants to check out everyone’s alignment, the student in me just wants to make sure I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing vis-a-vis everyone else. But in a Mysore class, because you’re usually the only one holding that particular pose at that particular time, you have no choice but to just focus on what you’re doing. You have no one to compare yourself with, which erases the pressure of “performing,” which makes you even more aware of what your body, breath and gaze are doing, which can only deepen your practice.
  6. The flexibility. Of your schedule, not your body, hehe. Basically you can practice any and all parts of the Primary Series as much or as little as you want. We have every type of practitioner at Mysore class—from a beginner who comes in and practices just her Surya Namaskara A and B, all the way to an expert yogi who does every part, including Chakrasana.
  7. The close partnership between student and teacher. Before class begins, Stair engages each student in a short conversation to basically gauge their status for the day. She asks us about our injuries, how much time we have to practice that day, if we want to work on anything in particular, and anything else that might affect our practice that morning. Because of my glute/ham injury, she has me take a pause in my practice to do short strengthening exercises. See, another thing you can’t do in a led class. She’s also worked closely with me on my Chakrasana, and I’m proud to say that only after attending four Mysore classes, I’ve seen some improvement.
  8. The early morning start time. The day job + the kids + teaching my own classes leaves me little time for supplemental workouts, so I try to fit them in whenever I can. The 6:30am start time is brutal early but time efficient. From what I’ve heard, this is the traditional time that Mysore is practiced. I’m grateful for my teacher for having decided to open her studio to students this early in the morning when she could be sleeping in. I seriously doubted I could make it out the door by 6 am three days a week, but I actually find myself bounding out of bed (as much as I can bound with sleeping NDH next to me) cause I just can’t wait to get to class.
  9. Half Moon Studio’s beautiful surroundings. It’s next to a lake. When you look out the window, you see trees, water, the sky. The location, plus the peace of the early morning, serve as beautiful ways to start the day. Glorious and inspiring.
  10. My wonderful teacher, Stair Calhoun. Without her, none of #1-9 would be happening. Matter of fact, I haven’t found a Mysore class in Fairfax County, Va. at all. Hers might be the only one. Thank you Stair, and namaste.

Don’t get me wrong—I’m not saying led classes suck. Far from it. Led classes rock my world too. In a led class, I derive energy from other people in the room. I’m an extrovert that way. Plus, like I said, I’m a sucker for choreography. I love the beauty of large-group synchronized movement. It’s like having two kids—I love them both equally, just in different ways.

Now if I can only master the chant. My memory’s shot, especially for words. Can’t memorize phone numbers to save my life. Fortunately, I can still remember movement and choreography. Hmmm…maybe if I set the chant to an interpretive dance, I’ll be able to remember it.

Great weekend, all.

Leave A Comment »

I Soar for Mysore

Posted in Yoga with tags , on August 17, 2010 by Karmela

I’ve been hearing about this “mysore” thing from the day I went to my first Ashtanga class. Curious girl that I am, I had to find out all about it. Evidently it’s another type of Ashtanga class, the same but different. My first question was—how do you pronounce it? And then my second and more important question—what is it? And how is it different from a regular “led” Ashtanga class?

Off to Google I went to research the situation. But the more I researched, the more alarmed I got. Well, not exactly alarmed, but I was definitely daunted with what I found. The class is self-paced? With no teacher in the front of the room telling me what to do next? No one to motivate me and kick my ass?  What I saw in YouTube was even scarier—a roomful of people seemingly doing their own thing, knowing what comes next and how to get into the most difficult of poses, with a hands-off teacher just looking on like a benevolent Buddha.

So naturally I was scared to go. What if I don’t remember what comes next? What if I get it wrong? What if (gulp!) people laugh at me because I so obviously didn’t know what the hell I was doing and didn’t look like I belonged?! All this performance anxiety made me decide not to go, no way Jose. Mysore class (which I finally discovered was pronounced “my” as in “My dog ate my homework,” and “sore” as in “All this yoga is making my ass sore,”) ain’t for me, thankyouverymuch.

But then I made the mistake of reading more books that told me the Mysore way is the traditional way of practicing Ashtanga. That it’s how Sri K. Patthabi Jois, the founder of Ashtanga, taught his classes. Well excuse me! So my preferred way ain’t the real deal? I was agog, I was aghast (“Is Marius in love at last…”) Sorry, I digress. Always looking for ways to insert those lyrics in everyday conversation.

Anyway, I’ve always fancied myself as the kinda girl who likes to get down and do the real thing, eat where the locals eat, dress what the occasion calls for, when in Rome, that sort of thing. Authenticity is one of those traits I value. So over the last few weeks, I’ve been strengthening my resolve against my natural inclination to avoid all situations that potentially have a high embarrassment factor, and I don’t embarrass easy so the list of possible situations is short, but Mysore class was very definitely on that list. I also set myself up to succeed. I found a yoga studio with a Mysore Ashtanga class, went to a led class, met the teacher, attended her lessons, got to know her (thanks to Facebook), asked about Mysore, and voilá! There I was at the crack of early this morning standing in her studio, bleary-eyed and nervous but caffeinated and ready to go.

And you know what? I don’t know what the hell I was so worried about. My teacher, the wonderful and amazing Stair Calhoun, couldn’t have been more welcoming. Because I had warned her that this was my first ever Mysore class, and that I had no clue what I was doing, she stayed close and kept an eye on me. I did my five Surya Namaskara As and Bs, and then she softly cued me on what asana came next. With each asana, she gave me guidance on how to get into the pose, taught me the proper breathing sequence, supported me in Parivirtta Parsvakonasa, put me into Supta Kurmasana, and pressed my arms down in Prasarita C. She talked me through Bhujapidasana, did a step-by-step Chakrasana with me, and dipped me for several backbends. Felt like a private class.

Afterwards, I was drenched in sweat and absolutely exhausted but felt like I was floating on air. Yoga Buzz, you know. Very similar to Dance Buzz but with a calmer sensation and less pain in the toes.

So it’s official—I love me some Mysore. For those of you who are still daunted by the thought, come with me to class and set your mat next to mine. We’ll fumble through the asanas together. But actually, we wouldn’t be fumbling. With Stair’s able guidance and expert assists, we’ll soon be sailing through the primary series like old pros. Let’s hope!

Namaste and a high-five!

Leave A Comment »

Yoga: The Good, The Bad, and the Really Ugly

Posted in Fitness, Yoga on July 21, 2010 by Karmela

So after a month of non-blogging (or has it been more than that?) a lot has happened in the ol’ yoga practice, some good, some meh, but overall uplifting and inspiring. Yoga continues to take up a larger and larger space in my fitness life, and while I haven’t quite embraced the spiritual and personal side of it, I’m already starting to incorporate some of the teaching methods and philosophies inherent in yoga into my own classes. Surprise, surprise, I seem to have become less drill-sargeantish and more…hmmm…I don’t wanna say a peacenik or hippie, but let’s just say my students have noticed a more accepting approach to their physical limitations, especially during kickboxing class. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still a stickler for form, but if you can’t move as fast as everybody else, that’s perfectly okay.  (Whoa, did I really just say that out loud?) Anyway, getting back on track, let’s talk about some of the yoga activities I’ve partaken since I blogged ye here last:

The Good

Last weekend, I participated in Jen Rene’s arm balance workshop at Flow Yoga Center in D.C.  I’ve been searching for one for quite awhile now because much as I want to muscle my way through Titthibasana, I know there’s a technical way to get in and out of the pose that I’m just not doing. Main thing I learned from Jen was the importance of activating the upper back before you balance on your hands, as in get on all fours, lock the bandhas, start to round the mid-back and press the collarbone up to the ceiling. Then you enter (with control and grace) whatever arm balance you want. I was able to hold a proper Bakasana this way for about 4 seconds (albeit with bent arms) and exit out by kicking back to Chaturanga Dandasana. Kapow! But the best part was I was actually able to enter Astavakrasana for the first time! She showed the proper arm alignment (which was what I’d been doing wrong) and voilá! Up and HOLD! Now if I can only exit with the same control. Ah, next time.

More good: downloaded a podcast of Peg Mulqueen’s last intermediate class from the spring season because I’m seriously contemplating doing a regular self-practice. This is big. I’m not one for self-motivated workouts. I need the teacher to push me, other students to commiserate with, and mirrors for vanity and alignment. But having listened to Peg’s class on the drive to and from work yesterday, I think I’ve found the perfect cross between a led class and total self-practice. Her podcast reveals a fun environment, and I can totally imagine that she’s addressing her adjustments directly to me. She’s such a bright light, a teacher who inspires and challenges you at the same time.

I also went to an outdoor yoga class with Virginia Lung, another favorite teacher (mmmm…yoga with a breeze, can’t be beat), who also asked me to be onstage with her as one of her demo people for a Summer Solstice celebratory outdoor yoga class at a nearby shopping center. It was a beautiful day, sun shining, warm breeze on my face, and gave a whole new meaning to “sun salutation.” Pictures below:

Group photo right before class. That's me, standing, second from right. Always the shortest.

Adho Mukha Svanasana. Aaahhh...

The world upside down. Sirsasana A.

The Bad

Because the DC area has an overabundance of yoga studios and world-renowned teachers, I haven’t really taken a “bad” yoga class per se, even if the yoga style doesn’t normally gel with me (e.g., Iyengar). Right when I was starting to believe that there was some kind of quality control yoga police who secretly goes around and checks to make sure teaching levels are up to par, I stumbled onto to my very first “bad” class ever.

I put it in quotes because the class wasn’t really that bad. It was at the YMCA in Franklin County, Va. While the teacher had fairly good sequencing, knew her right from her left and cued some proper alignment, she practiced with us and never once went around the room to adjust, which is what I think a yoga teacher ought to be doing. She also never cued any variations and seemed content with what her students were doing, even if they weren’t stretching themselves to their fullest capacity.

The Ugly

But the worst class I attended was last night, in a beautiful freestanding yoga studio very close to my house. It’s an Anusara-style shop, which is a little slow for me, but I figured I’d try it out since the distance from home was perfect.

I attended a Level 1/2 class which I knew wouldn’t be that challenging for me. That’s not the problem. The problem was that the teacher didn’t seem, well, ready to teach. Not that she was unprepared (which she was—she read copiously from notes, didn’t know her sequence) or that she was inarticulate (which she was—fumbled around for proper terminology, didn’t know her right from her left), but that she seemed unseasoned and not really up to teaching levels yet. I could’ve taught that class, and that’s saying a lot since my confidence in teaching a beginner yoga class is zero. All the while I kept thinking, boy, they must let just anyone teach here. Which is bad. Teaching a beginner-anything class is such a specialized skill that it really can’t be assigned to another fellow beginner, which this teacher seemed to be. It’s at the beginner level that bad habits are developed, and where the eagle eye of an expert teacher and longtime practitioner of the field is really needed.

But like I said, the past month has been an excellent one overall, yoga-wise. I’m just being picky with the bad and ugly stuff (which just goes to show I have a long way off before becoming a true yogi).  Because as you all know, bad yoga is better than no yoga.

And now, as they say down in Franklin County, Va., namaste y’all.

5 Comments »

Top 10 Reasons Why I Can Never Be a Yoga Teacher

Posted in Yoga on June 10, 2010 by Karmela

You all know I teach fitness classes, right? Mainly dance and kickboxing, plus the occasional muscle conditioning class. When I first began upping my yoga practice, I dabbled in the idea of possibly enrolling in a teacher training program so I could add yoga to the repertoire of formats I teach. But the more I took classes, the more I realized that maybe teaching yoga isn’t necessarily for me. And here are the reasons why.

  1. Yoga teachers have memories like elephants. They know hundreds of words that all end in “asana” and know the difference between each one. Me? I can barely remember my grocery list.
  2. Yoga teachers are an articulate bunch. They can cue precise alignment and body parts simply by telling their students (“Step your right foot forward to a high lunge. Take your hands in prayer position, then bend forward and place your left elbow outside your right knee”.) Me? Verbal cuing is a definite challenge, especially since I don’t know my right from my left. I’m more used to the visual cuing that is the norm for regular group fitness classes. Show, not tell, which ironically is also the commandment to fiction writers. But not in yoga. Yoga teachers tell, not show. Oh, sometimes they show too, but they verbally cue most of the time.
  3. Yoga teachers don’t yell at their students.  I do, especially during kickboxing. My style is more drill sergeant than gentle guru.
  4. Yoga teachers believe in universal peace, love and harmony. And, um, I don’t. I like guns. I don’t tolerate shit. If someone offends me I usually don’t hesitate to kick their ass.
  5. Yoga teachers are precise. To properly get you into a pose, they know exactly which body parts they want you to engage and contract and relax. I’m just not that detail oriented.
  6. Yoga teachers don’t seem to mind if they don’t get a workout while teaching class. See, for me, the main reason I teach fitness classes is so I can get my workout in while I teach. Two birds with one stone, right? But for a yoga teacher, she spends the majority of her teaching time walking around the room and correcting alignment instead of joining the practice. Which is as it should be. Yoga requires such control of ones limbs that I appreciate each and every correction from my teachers. Obviously if they were practicing too, they wouldn’t be able to keep a sharp eye out for misalignments and contraindications.
  7. Yoga teachers are gentle.  They ease their students into whatever it is they’re trying to get them to do, motivate through positive reinforcement and a light touch instead of pushing. Me? I’m a pusher. A yeller, even.
  8. Yoga teachers care enough to learn the background and history of their practice. Me? I do care, I just won’t ever care enough to retain the info.
  9. Yoga teachers are patient. A real yoga teaching credential requires at least 200 hours of learning time. And I think that’s in a classroom setting, not self-study. Me? I’m an instant gratification kinda girl. I don’t know that I can hang on to 200 hours of classroom time (let alone retain the information).
  10. Yoga teachers are spiritual beings. As a whole, they believe in the power of the Earth, the elements, and the intrinsic goodness of people. I haven’t met one cynical yoga teacher yet who thinks the planet is doomed. I’m sure they’re out there somewhere, these yoga-teaching closet cynics, and if I became I teacher, I’d join their ranks.

The more I think about it, the more I realize I should leave the yoga teaching to the professionals. I’ll just be another happy student on the mat.

ASIDE: I can’t believe I haven’t blogged about So You Think You Can Dance! Correcting this oversight tomorrow. Don’t forget to watch tonight!

    1 Comment »

    Bikram Observations

    Posted in Yoga with tags on May 28, 2010 by Karmela

    So I Bikram’d last night for the first time. For those of you who have never been to a Bikram class, here’s the Wikipedia description.  Now I’m going to tell you what I thought of it. Basically…

    • Bikram is boring as shit. No choreography, no flow. Might as well have been taking a calisthenics class in 105° F temps.
    • Bikram is mind-numblingly simple. Asanas so basic they didn’t even seem like yoga asanas. They just seemed like the stretches my ballet teacher makes me do. Bend this way, bend that way, yawn.

    And then there’s the environment itself. I have a problem with doing “exercises” in overheated rooms, not because breathing the air feels uncomfortable (make no mistake though, it does), but because I suspect it’s the heat that’s making your heart pound and not the actual exercises themselves. I guess if the goal is to get your heart going and your body sweating, then Bikram succeeds. But because of the heat, you can literally sit there and do nothing but lift your arm up and down and it’ll still get your heart going. It’s the heat doing the work; not your necessarily your body. I couldn’t help but think of the hottest day in Manila where moving just my pinky finger was torture. That’s what Bikram reminded me of.

    And maybe it was just that particular teacher’s teaching style, but she never demo’d any of the moves, not one. As a movement teacher myself, I have a huge problem with that. There were two beginners in your class (and you knew about them) and you don’t demo even one pose? And then there was also the fact that she maybe called one of the poses by its Sanskrit name. I dunno, that just struck me as incomplete teaching. Listen to me getting all snobby with the Sanskrit. Hah! Are you rolling your eyes yet?

    Anyway, back to Bikram. Don’t get me wrong—it was hard as shit and I was catching my breath many times during class. But am I going back? Maybe. Highly unlikely but never say never. I’ll tell you this though—going to Bikram made me ever so much more in love with the Ashtanga, Vinyasa and Hatha classes I go to.

    Leave A Comment »

    « Older Entries
    Newer Entries »
    Follow

    Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

    Join 75 other followers