“Sharp pain stop, dull pain keep going,” the yoga instructor said. But he didn’t speak to the bothdullandsharp pain that appears twenty-four hours later when you try to type, or lift your arm above your shoulder. In a fit of New Year’s enthusiasm I bought an unlimited monthly yoga pass. I’m getting stronger, slowly. Still haven’t learned which instructors are better and which are the ones to avoid.
Yesterday’s instructor talked like an angry flamboyant Yoda. Lots of inverted syntax and growling. At one point, when the room was about 100 degrees and we were in warrior pose, he said, “no buzz like the yoga buzz, there is. The only greater buzz is loooove.” (The way he said love didn’t sound like he was thinking agape.) But he did play the Beatles and not all Hare Krishna music, so thumbs up.