I'll take mine to go...

Today I ended my Tuesday lunchtime Vinyasa summer teaching gig on a high note - 18 students came (and such an auspicious number too)! I played my favorite mix (Sahara Chill from Putumayo's collection, plus Honey Root, plus Zero 7 plus Dum Dum Project plus Elvis Costello) and wove in a theme that I could really wrap my arms around and embrace (well, it was my idea after all): self-practice.

After witnessing a friend's emotional breakdown over the weekend due to her inability to go to a spin class, it occurred to me for about the eleventy-billionth time, how lucky I am to have discovered and developed a yoga self-practice. My practice goes with me wherever I go. I don't even really need a mat, although it sure is nicer to have one. I can put my hands and my feet to the floor anywhere, anytime, like a Dr. Seuss rhyme:

I can practice on a plane
I can practice in the rain
I can practice at the beach
I can practice when I teach

I can practice where I ski
I can practice where I tee
I can practice on a track
I can practice right out back

I do not even need a mat
All I need is someplace flat
It does not matter where ya go
Yoga is yoga is yoga, yo.

One of the nice aspects of teaching a class that is intended to inspire my students to take their practices home with them is that I could teach a vastly uncomplicated sequence. Sometimes I feel (internal) pressure to wow my classes with creative sequences. But today, my goal was to make it simple enough to remember if they were so inclined.

Afterwards, I taught my private group of personal trainers (also at Yoga Sutra though), which is always a blast because they are incredibly athletic and are always looking to have fun in class. This means that we inevitably end up working on inversions and arm balances. They love that stuff, as do I. Muscly peeps. As my friend S puts it: the Muhammed Ali's, as opposed to the Gumbi's. The comparison took me aback at first. I never would have compared myself to the man who floated like a butterfly and stung like a bee in his day. But compared to the folks who can bend backwards and see their own asses (you know who you are....TIFF), I guess I'm much more of an agile boxer. And if you ask the Husband, he will tell you that I have the memory lapses to match.

Well, it's back to Fire Island for me for some more beach, bamboo, barbecue, bikes and boys (my boys). And of course, some nice yoga practice...to go.

YC