No-bullshit yoga

I went to my second yoga class yesterday. Dan has been going for the last couple months at Chelsea Piers, and he really enjoys it. So, I figured I'd take the plunge again; I took a yoga class about four years ago in Los Angeles.

It was more of what I remembered from that first class. The exercises are pretty good. I feel like they challenge my body physically both in flexibility and strength. It's the bullshit, though, that sticks in my mind.

I'd guess about 30% of the class was a bunch of hocus pocus nonsense about opening up my heart and freeing my voice. Blah. I don't need Gandalf at the front of the room telling me to release my inner chi; I just want to get stretched and get stronger.

Of course, when I said this to a couple people who are big yoga-heads, they said I just didn't understand it. Bull-freakin-shit. Near the end of the class, the instructor told us to bring our hands together in front of our heart, and rub them together quickly. Then he told us to pull them apart slightly.

"Feel the energy between your hands, emanating from your heart."

Uh, that's called friction. It's the energy that's generated when you rub your hands together. It's heat. That's what I'm feeling, not my heart opening up or any other spiritual nonsense that he wanted to try to connect us with.

I see the positives of the exercises. And I know some people get something out of all the nonsense surrounding the exercises; but it's all that other stuff I want to do without. I'll be looking for a 45-minute no-bullshit yoga class in the city; here's hoping.