The hardest yoga session ever
As part of my quest to stay strong, fit and healthy into my stilton-ripening years, I’ve decided to do more regular yoga, and improve my technique.
As part of the Peleton subscription (I should be on commission for that company!) they offer complete yoga programmes - a guided series of sessions to help you develop your practice.
I’m doing one called Power Restorative Yoga - it’s a little different to flow yoga because you hold the positions longer and really focus in on all the tiny muscle groups that make your body strong.
On Monday morning, I was working through the session with Ross Rayburn, feeling quite the pro perfecting my downward dog and side angle, when we moved to a pose called Warrior 2 (which looks like the photo)
It’s a pretty basic yoga pose but I was learning more detail about the correct position of the pelvis, rotation of quads and shins, the tension of pulling my feet towards each other, blah, blah, yogi blah…
…all good stuff.
I felt challenged but comfortable most of the session.
However, sometimes ADHD causes me problems it’s difficult to plan for.
I enjoy guided sessions, but often if I’m pointing in the opposite direction to the screen, my little brain wanders off away from the instructor and on to more interesting things like what I’m going to write in today’s email, wondering how OSB board is made, and how can we ever really know Beethoven was deaf?
I was in Warrior 2 pose, and doing my best to stick my bum out whilst pushing my quads forward and keeping tension all the way through my legs, and I was starting to feel the burn.
The pose seemed to be going on forever.
My legs were shaking and I was sweating.
F*cking hell, Ross, when are we going to end this torture?
Not one for quitting, I gritted my teeth and tried to focus on my breathing to make it through the pain.
He’ll do his countdown to rest soon, surely?
But it didn’t come.
I’d failed to hold a simple yoga pose.
I collapsed in a heap on the floor feeling shaky, miserable and sick, and glanced back to the screen to wait until he moved on to the next pose.
Ross? Where are you?
There was a blank screen.
We’d had a power cut.
Being so lost in musing about Beethoven’s bloody hearing, I hadn’t even noticed the music had stopped!
I’m not quite sure what lesson I can attach to that for you today, but rather I’ll use the story to reassure you 100% that if we work together in video calls, I’ll never expect you to stand with your arse towards the screen, so you’ll always know if I’m there in the room with you or if I’ve buggered off.
I never knew that was an important part of my client care until now!
Fancy getting free emails from me every weekday to help you through your working week? The link’s below