Life of the Lintee Bean

I’ve considered taking yoga classes for ages.  Yoga could alleviate my back pain and improve my posture.  Yoga may increase my strength and flexibility.  Yoga might lower my blood pressure and stress level.  So, I’ve thought about it and thought about it – but not actually DONE it.

I have two friends that teach yoga, and numerous other friends that practice yoga.  One friend takes yoga at her gym, a gym very close to my house.  I mean, VERY close to my house – it’s on the next block and I pass it each day walking to and from the train stop.

So, this week I bit the bullet and stopped in the gym on my way home. I’ve belonged to gyms before.  I knew the chances were slim that I could walk in, ask about their yoga classes, and walk right back out. Sure enough, I was directed to take a seat and soon a young muscle-bound man was with me, asking questions, filling out forms, giving me a tour of the gym, etc. He explained I was overweight (I knew that) and out of shape (I knew that too) and I really REALLY needed to join their gym. I told him I’d think about it, and grabbed a copy of the group class schedule. He said he’d talk to his manager and get me a “special deal” if I joined TODAY.  (This was the same “special deal” advertised on a giant banner in the window, visible to all that passed by.) After all was said and done, I joined the gym.

I scheduled my “fitness evaluation” for the next night.  My “evaluator” was a personal trainer, former college wrestler, muscle-bound young man named Kevin. Kevin asked me questions, filled out forms, and took me upstairs.  He illustrated the first exercise by dropping to his hands and knees, throwing his legs out behind him in a push-up position, flexing each leg forward, then standing upright again.  He looked at me.  I laughed. He didn’t. I asked if he was serious.  He was. To my credit, I tried. I tried the push-up/leg flex exercise.  I tried the hands-walking forward exercise. I tried the balancing on some plastic spongy dome exercise.  I tried lunges with weights.

Kevin got a barbell for curls, and I was relieved to see he didn’t put any weights on the bar. I figured I could do this, and was doing nicely lifting the barbell in a curl, until Kevin put his fingers on the bar.  It felt as though all of Kevin’s weight was on that bar.  He had me continue to lift the bar with his two-hundred-pound fingers on them. I wondered what Kevin would do if, instead of continuing to fight him to lift the bar toward me, I suddenly pushed the bar toward him, hopefully knocking him down. I didn’t find out. We worked out for what seemed like hours, until it seemed I might collapse.

Kevin took me back downstairs and declared the results of his evaluation. I was not fit (no kidding) and had no muscle endurance.  I have no muscles, of course I have no muscle endurance! I declined his recommendation to take much-needed personal training sessions (at great expense). I walked home while my legs still worked.  By the kitchen clock, I could see I’d only been gone only an hour. So I guess we didn’t work out that long after all.

I went to my first yoga class Saturday morning.  We stretched and posed and there were no lunges or weights or muscle-bound personal trainers involved. I liked it.

Submitted for publication in the Greeley Citizen

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