Old Dog, New Tricks

“Some of you are approaching this time like a lion, ready to attack this yoga session.  Some of you are approaching this like a unicorn, ready to escape out the door.”

I recently quit teaching part-time at Georgia Gwinnett College after seven years, partly due to my travel schedule and partly due to the fact that I wanted to spend more time with my wife Laurel.  It isn’t ever like I’m bored in life or don’t have enough to do, but I tend to always like to be busy and active.  So while there wasn’t necessarily a “gap” in my schedule after retiring from teaching, mentally, I still had a bit of a gap to fill.  And, as noted, I wanted to find a way to spend more time with Laurel.

In July, I went to a meeting at our headquarters in Germany, and as a part of it, I participated in the WIKA team marathon, which they hold annually.  You only have to run about six kilometers, which isn’t a huge challenge, or shouldn’t be.  To say I sucked would be an understatement, it was one of my worst running performances, and experiences, I can ever remember.  While I could make a number of excuses, the reality that I knew was that I had become too “running centric” and had quit doing anything to stay fit other than running.  That just doesn’t work, you need to do more than just run to be an effective runner.

When I came home, I told Laurel, “I need to start going to yoga with you”, which made Laurel ecstatic, she’s been trying to get me to go to yoga with her for years.  Now this was huge because I have done my best to avoid any type of stretching throughout my life, and have made it basically 57 years with virtually no stretching.  Why, might you ask?  Because it hurts, plain and simple.  I am extremely tight, my hamstrings are awful.  So, when Laurel said to me, “You may not realize this, but yoga is hard”.  Uh, no shit, I had no preconception that yoga was going to be easy for me.  On the contrary, I was scared to death of how hard this was going to be. 

It reminded me of something that my good friend and mentor Dave Carr taught me once.  When he was teaching a course, he talked about three “zones”.  One is the Comfort Zone, where things are familiar and we are comfortable.  Then there is the Learning Zone, where beliefs, ideas and perspectives are challenged, and we grow.  And then, there is the “Panic Zone”, where our eyes get big, our heart rate goes up, our breathing gets faster and our palms get moist.

“Take time to set your intentions, what do you want to get out of this time here?”

When I began going to yoga, a short four months ago, yes, I was scared to death, I was in the Panic Zone.  As many times as Laurel would remind me that it was going to be hard, or I probably didn’t realize how hard this was going to be, no, the truth of the matter was, I knew how hard and painful this was going to be for me.  I know my body, I know how tight I am, how awful my hamstrings are.  But oh, I found out so much more.  I found out how weak my hips were.  I found out how tight my shoulders were.  Each week, early on, I learned new things about my body, and it wasn’t good.  I remember remarking to Megan Kearney, the owner of Ebb & Flow and leader of many yoga sessions, that I’m learning new things that my body can’t do each time, and her response back was, “Yeah, but isn’t it amazing what your body can do?” 

And that is why I have fallen in love with yoga.  Each session I attend, I am the unicorn, I am in the Panic Zone.  I often remark to Laurel, “I really don’t think you realize how hard this is for me.  I know it is for a lot of people, but it’s really hard for me.  I’ve not stretched in 57 years, it really hurts.”  But each time, I give it everything I have, I’ve figured out what I just flat out can’t do, but I’m gradually learning to be OK with that, and becoming content with what I can do.

“If you only spend five minutes today intentionally, you are doing yoga.”

It goes far beyond the physical part though.  So much of yoga is about spirituality, focus and breathing.  OK, breathing should be easy, but I’m constantly forgetting that I need to breathe when I’m doing yoga.  I wish I could say I’m getting better at remembering to breathe, but this will take some time.  Focus is another area that is and will be a struggle for me.  I am Type A, no doubt, and my mind is constantly wandering to all of the things I need to get done.  But, I am seeing some glimmers of hope.  I’ve been able to concentrate on what the teacher is saying more and more, and sometimes, I am able to focus, and really concentrate on being intentional.

Which brings me to the spirituality, and more particularly, the teachers I’ve had.  Since I’ve only been doing yoga for four months, I’ve only had the opportunity to experience four teachers, Megan, Brooke, Dani and Felicia.  Again, I’m such a novice to yoga, but they are just incredible.  They are wonderfully unique and amazing in their own way.  Each brings different gifts, different teaching methods, different music, and I’m just mesmerized at how they encourage and inspire me to be my best, and also to be OK with myself when I can only be my best.  There are so many times that they’ll say something in class, and unfortunately, my Type A personality will have me lying there thinking, “wait, what did she just say?  I need to write that down.”  Unfortunately I can’t, so I have to commit the concept to my brain, not the actual comment. 

“You can do hard things”

I have come to realize, and accept, I will never be good at this.  You can’t overcome 57 years of never stretching, and 57 years (or close to it) of being a Type A.  I have gotten better, I have grown, I have improved, but I’m pretty confident and comfortable with the fact that I will never be very good at yoga.  But that doesn’t change the fact that I am loving every minute of it.  Don’t get me wrong, every class, I’m a unicorn, I’m ready to bolt out the door.  I’m scared to death, but I stick it out, and I do the best I can do.  And I’m not ashamed to say that at the end of every class, I get teary-eyed because I’m proud of myself for doing something that I never believed I could ever do.  I firmly believe, they are changing my life.  Physically, spiritually, I’m becoming a different, and better, person. I am so thankful for what they are doing for me.

I can do hard things. 

Stay tuned for “Old Dog, New Tricks, Part 2”.  If I can accomplish this, I can accomplish so much more.  I am still a work in progress.