Four-mile-frolic and my first studio class!

All I wanted to do this morning was run.  I was fidgety and nervous prior to my first studio class and I just wanted to get it out.  I told myself to save my energy for yoga, I practiced my class twice through, in pieces throughout the morning and I thought my decision to forgo the run was wise.  Yet when 12:30 rolled around, a half hour prior to the class, my heart was racing, as was my mind.  While my class was well structured with a theme, lots of poses, some demos and props, I suddenly realized I had hardly any mention of breathing in there.  Yikes, a yoga class without breathing, all my students will pass out and turn blue!  I panicked googling yogic breathing at the last minute before I walked out the door and then I remembered, I’ve been doing yoga for 15 years.  I must have some engrained piece of knowledge about the breathe, something I can say as we move into cat cow, some little reminder here or there I can throw in.  The below picture does not do justice to my excitement/ nerves, except that you can see me desperately clutching my lesson plan.

When I arrived at the studio, one of my master teachers, Nicole was there, perfuming the room with serene essential oils and greeting me with her encouraging smile.  I placed my mat in my previously decided upon teaching spot and opened the curtains to let in a little light.  A friend of mine from work arrived, followed by a fellow yogi I’ve seen in class a few times but don’t know by name, another practitioner I’ve never seen before and my teacher Nicole filled the mats.  It was a few minutes past one so I figured I better get started.  I asked everyone to take a comfortable seat and off we went.  The physical theme of my class was opening the chest and paired with this heart-opening theme I talked a lot about being kind to ourselves.  Being just past the midpoint of January, made me reflect on resolutions and how we can be so unforgiving with ourselves if we slip up.  So approaching new experience with an open heart and the willingness to make mistakes was a great theme for a novice yoga teacher to embrace.  Lucky for me one of my former elementary students arrived, as well as one of my yoga teacher training colleagues, and I felt a bit more at ease to see some more familiar faces.  Yet, I found that in my desire to use a calm yoga teacher voice, I sometimes lost the necessary volume to project my voice to the class and nerves didn’t help this.  I also think I may have rushed through some poses without adequate description just to be done with them and on to the next thing.  However all in all, I think it was a success. I did not fall down, I did not throw up,  I did not flee the room in tears. (Yes, these were all possible scenarios I imagined before the class!)  In fact, my students and my teacher had many encouraging things to say to me when it was over.  After class I got a chance to catch up with my elementary student, who is now 18 or 19 years old.  Daniel, who is a runner, completely understood that itchy running feeling I had been experiencing all day.  He advised that now that I was done with teaching, I should go run it out.  Nicole, after we discussed various points of my class, suggested that now that I was finished I should fully relax, perhaps even enjoy a glass of wine.

I followed both Daniel and Nicole’s advice but not in that order.  I met my husband at the Back Abbey for a glass of wine and a salad.  He ordered the soup and some fries, and I admit that I downed more than my share of those fries!  After a bit of time at home, I realized the sun was getting low in the sky and I was still twitchy.  Time to run.  Just up to the trail and back through the neighborhoods, for a fun and frolicky four miles.  The sunset from the trail was gorgeous and the seventies something weather made running in my shorts and tank a spring-like experience.  

The only draw back, duck fat fries and running don’t really mix, so even though it was hours later, it was a heartburn plagued run.  I am slowly learning just to run on a completely empty stomach, which means either first thing in the morning, or having a super light lunch around noon, then waiting 4-5 hours and no snack in between.  Any other runners have this I-can’t-have-any-food-in-my- belly issue?  Anyhow despite the indigestion, my run was just what the doctor ordered.  I arrived home to be greeted by to clean pajamas, a bath, and finally the feeling or relaxation I have been chasing all day.

Oh and I saw this on my run.  If I still had any lawn, I would totally do this too!  A wonderful symbol to remind me, even on days full of excitement and energy, it is important to find balance and live peaceful! 

A Twist on Teaching

I am gearing up to teach my first yoga class in a studio.  For years I’ve taught elementary teachers and students in my classroom or at a common space at my school.  I’ve taught my fellow yoga teachers in training a few poses at the studio, but I have not yet taught an entire class at a yoga studio.  I am equally excited and terrified by this upcoming opportunity. 

I am well prepared, I have been planning and practicing my sequence for over a month.  But the thing about teaching at a studio is, you never know who might show up.  You might get an advanced student who has been practicing for a decade, right beside a novice who is coming to their first class.  While doing this type of teaching differentiation is second nature for me in the elementary classroom, I am still learning how to modify poses for yoga classes.  Will I know what to do in order to challenge my veteran students, what if a student is unable to do a pose, will I be able to give them access to that stretch at their level?  So many questions, so many unknowns; this is what makes the prospect of teaching yoga equally thrilling and scary. 

Having just completed my fourth intense yoga weekend,  I am very pleased that our instructors have had us teaching each other since day one.  Each time I attend my classes, I am practically giddy at the beginning of the weekend, about all the new material I will learn.  By the end of the weekend, though physically exhausted and humbled by how much I still have to learn, I feel a sense of accomplishment.  Not just because I made it through 12 hours of yoga (no, not all of it is asana but the physical demands are intense if the student embraces every opportunity to practice.).  But mainly because I am actively pursuing a passion, trying to find ways to share it with family and friends, and just in general inviting more of this healthy experience into my life.

Do I look a bit reluctant in this photo?  I was gearing up for a weekend of twists and inversions.  I have never spent so much time upside down in my life!  (Believe it or not, it was so much fun!) 

For those of you interested in taking a yoga class from me, here is your first chance.  This coming Saturday 1/17 at 1pm, I’ll be teaching an all levels class at Claremont Yoga.  It is a one-hour class with a suggested donation of $10.  If you can join me, I would be delighted to help you open your heart to the New Year and welcome a yoga practice into your life.  (Do not fear, I will not invert you during your first class!)  

New Year’s Newbies

On my 7 mile run this morning, I remembered one of the fun things about running in January.  It’s not the refreshingly brisk weather or the hills being so green from recent rains, while those things are nice.  What I enjoy the most about running in January are the resolution recruits.  These new fitness enthusiasts take many forms.  Whether it be a chatty group of friends taking up the whole trail forming a “none-shall pass” squadron, or a couple dressed in hoodies and sweatpants who are now sweltering because they didn’t realize their bodies would warm up as they worked out, these new year’s newbies are learning novel skills. Joining the ranks is a parade of well meaning individuals.  A forty-something gentleman bracing himself, hands on knees, trying desperately to catch his breath before he passes out. A young couple running uphill way too fast with satisfied smiles plastered on their faces who will most certainly begin facing down a side stitch in another few hundred yards. New middle aged bikers, with shiny gear that just left it’s place under the Christmas Tree, are a bit wobbly on their tires and yell, “On your right,” when they meant on your left. 

I run this trail several times a week. I am a regular.  This is my turf.  So why do I delight in the crowded trails that January brings? Because…I was once that uncertain biker, that clueless speed walker, that novice runner.  I don’t begrudge you that I had to slow down and pass you in the bushes because you didn’t know to keep your group to the right and not stretch into the oncoming lane of pedestrian traffic, I understand that you were too elated with the fact that you and all your friends managed to show up this morning and do something healthy.  My forty-something friend who is trying to decide whether to puke, give up, or die and is looking shamefacedly at his beer belly as he clenches his knees, I am not judging you as I try to catch your eye. I am telegraphing hope, sending you encouragement, letting you know if you keep trying it will get better.  It is a mark of the seasons that the new year denotes a time for second chances, for trying something different, and it is refreshing to see hoards of people full of hope and faith that this may be their year for change.

Likewise, it doesn’t dishearten me when, come February first, we are pretty much back to the regular crowd of die-hards who were out their running and biking early on Christmas morning because every once in a while a new face will join the ranks.  This year, I’m rooting for my forty-something friend.  Don’t give up dude! Maybe run a little slower and on an empty stomach next time, but you’ll figure it out.   You’ll find your stride and when you do, it will all be worth it!

Note from the photo that even in its crowded state, it is possible to find solitude along some of the stretches of the trail.