Power To The Yoga

My usual day off is Friday, but I traded off yesterday and hung out with the SO’s mother, my mother and my grandmother. Since we had to break the party up in time for mom to go to her power yoga class before ballet, I decided I might as well go there with her. Because why not?

I have only tried yoga a couple of times with my grandmother, who’s been doing it rigorously for twenty years now. I’ve never been to a yoga class, nor really wanted to attend one. My mom assured me that her teacher didn’t bother with the spiritual side overmuch and went for the physical exercises instead, which suited me just fine.

Just before class we met another lady in the changing room who said that she usually goes to spinning class but was curious to find out how she’d do in something completely different. I told her it was my first time, too.

This turned out slightly less reassuring than I thought. Dancing four times a week and my additional strength training proved an adequate preparation for almost anything power yoga could throw at me. Spinning classes didn’t. (Duh.) After class, the lady remarked, «Well, you didn’t seem to have much difficulty!» and I hurried to explain that I would’ve struggled just as much two years ago. I’m not sure she believed me.

As a warm-up for ballet, the fifty-minute yoga class was great. The static exercises and stretches helped me get over the residual soreness in the hamstrings and generally limbered me up somewhat. I can see why mom sticks with it (well, that and she’s the best of the class unless you count the teacher). I also loved the instructor, a slightly pot-bellied guy with a soft voice and a great sense of humour. I can’t afford to add the class to my schedule, neither financially nor temporally, but I might do a power yoga workout at home occasionally.

Ballet was otherwise uneventful, except for an unfamiliar girl who kept distracting me by being technically good and technically bad at the same time. She followed along easily and had great tendus and balance, while making technical mistakes so obvious that even I noticed them. None of us are shining beacons of ballet technique, but our teachers hammered some things into our heads early on. Such as not bending forward too much in arabesque and not forcing the turnout in pliés à la seconde so brutally it made my eyes water.

While I was trying to figure out how this paradox came to be, I forgot what I was supposed to be doing. Which proves that you should always pay attention to your own ballet technique and not everyone elses!

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