YIP-PIE

YIP (yoga in public) was a joke.  The Expert and I are accustomed to getting our baby yogi-buns kicked by Tony Horton and the P90x yoga routine.

The YMCA class was a hilarious walk in the park.  We walk into the studio, which is dimly lit.  About five minutes until class starts.  The instructor is up front, taking herself very seriously.  We hear a cell phone ring.  We all turn towards the sound.  An older man answers it:  “HELLO?”  The instructor looks as if her head might fly off her neck.

“YEAH, I’M KINDA BUSY RIGHT NOW,” the old man screams into his phone.

The instructor gives him the super hairy eyeball, and says, “Sir, you need to go outside.”

The man’s wife says to the instructor, “He can’t really hear you. He’s really hard of hearing.”  (Shocker, we are all thinking).  The wife looks back at her husband like she hates this man more than anchovy on ice cream.

“Sir! Sir, you need to leave,” again the instructor says.

He finally notices that the instructor is speaking to him. “YEAH,” he says to the instructor, “HOLD ON. I’M ON THE PHONE.”  She throws her hands in the air.

“I’VE GOTTA GO. I’LL CALL YOU LATER,” the old man screams to the caller.

The wife stares at him, clearly thinking, I hate this man so much. 


Hilarious.

This yoga consisted of a series of really fancy hamstring stretches followed by the largest group of terrible flash mob Warrior Ones in the history of all the world.  Another older man had plopped down directly in front of me and I noted he was wearing knee socks, which is kinda tricky for yoga.  Well, when it came time for Warrior One, that man s-t-r-e-t-c-h-e-d his hands in the air, placed his arms at eye level, whereby he stopped and looked like he was examining his cuticles.  But that was his Warrior One. Another woman in the corner wasn’t bending her knees at all.  And a scrawny little girl who should have been a yoga genius had the worse form in the whole class.

Even in Yoga Sissy Class 101, I somehow managed to rip half of my big toenail off during my transition from plank to downward dog. Another ridiculous feat of nature for Swim Bike Klutz.  Almost as good as me stepping out of the car at the gas station and tripping over a chicken wing last week.  We won’t mention the stupid fact that there was a chicken wing in the parking lot.  But of course, I found it.

Good news: The Expert and I put down a 1600m swim before class.  We dropped the kids in the Y daycare around 10:00 and the race began – the kids are only allowed to stay in the kids club for two hours.  To throw down a swim and a full yoga class in two hours was awesome.  Then off to the grocery store, lunch, followed by twenty-minutes of picking stickers off the dining room table.

Tomorrow is biggest brick workout yet.  Woo hoo!