Deep Yoga Thoughts from Day 1

       In honor of my oldest brother, I'll start this with a comment he would make.  "I like my women like I like my yoga rooms.  Hot. Silent. And for no longer than an hour at a time."  Having said that, today I completed my first yoga class at Core Power Yoga (corepoweryoga.com), and it was enjoyable.  I went to the hot yoga session.  I would say it was Bikram yoga, but I am not sure of the Bikram sequence, and I don't want to be sued by Mr. Bikram.  Probably while causing offense, I have to say that yogi has dragged people into court for using his yoga sequence.  "Namaste...just kidding.  See you in court and wear something less form fitting."
       The reason I started doing yoga is because after climbing, I tweaked my knee, and I was hoping to rehabilitate it. I asked my friend Summer, who is an excellent yogi and exudes energy, about where I can find a good yoga video preferably with a hot female instructor.  She berated me and told me I should attend classes.  So thus my exploratory yoga.
       The last time I attended yoga was with Summer, and she told me that the guys usually wear form fitting clothing.  I broke out my form fitting running tights compliments Josh McAdams and the Olympic team, but there weren't enough guys there to tell me that I didn't fit in.  In hindsight, Summer may have only been looking for an opportunity to see me wearing spandex.  Plus, when I actually looked at what Bikram wears, my tights made me look like a Puritan at a swingers party.

Bikram playing Jesus if Jesus rocked a black thong and preached the suffering of others for him.

       Thus not wanting to unnecessarily emphasize my package, I texted a yogi/climber here named Lisa.  Lisa advised me that wearing shorts is now acceptable, and I am glad I took her advise.

       At yoga, I entered the dark, hot, humid room and began doing my poses.  I handle myself alright, and I will admit that yoga has great benefits.  The instructor is Dake, pronounced like Jake, but with a D.  Nice guy.  And he didn't touch my butt to emphasize correcting poses (look he has the lawsuit now Mr. Bikram).  However, as the session went on, he told us to breathe out all the poisons and toxins, and he also told us to connect to the higher energy which is exactly what I wanted because eventually I was looking forward to becoming a bad-ass street fighter.

Twelve year old Andy's expectations of yoga.

    My expectations didn't come true, and the closest I came to the whole purification was a deep breath.  I was thinking I could really release the toxins, and if I sat in the right position, the force of the exhalation may make me levitate like Dhalsim, but I already think one of the ladies there was already giving me dirty looks.  And if that levitation was to come through a higher power, it was Melanie's spaghetti with questionable beef and turkey.

Not shown:  Hundreds of dead fish from him releasing his toxins.

And as a parting, yoga expectations vs. yoga reality