Men and yoga

This week, I started going to the 90-minute yoga class on Monday evenings. I'm happy to report that I made it through the class and felt better when I came out than when I went in. I think I might be getting the hang of this gym thing.

On Wednesday, I went to the gym for what has become my regular yoga class. As I entered the room, I got my mat and scanned the room for a space to claim as my own. My eyes fell on the person closest to the door. He was in reclining butterfly - where you sit down, put the soles of your feet together, knees out to the sides, and lay back. He was wearing shorts. I don't think I emitted an audible "eek" but I might have. In most other circumstances, I'd be the first to say that audible exclamations of disgust are bad form. In this case, I think I should be forgiven. I quickly averted my eyes, claimed the spot behind him, and tried to erase the image from my memory banks. Ever wonder why memories of loved ones fade, but you can indefinitely retain a vivid mental image of a stranger's not-meant-for-public-viewing parts. Our God has a strange sense of humor.

Since Mr. Shorts was in the front of the room, I decided that he wasn't in class to ogle at the female class members. About 10 minutes into the class, I decided he was there to sweat profusely and breathe heavily like Darth Vader. He was clearly connected to a force all his own. Despite the instructor's constant reminder to "go slow," he zipped in and out of warrior 1, warrior 2, and reverse warrior. He was a whirling, sweaty dervish. I intentionally kept my head down while we were in bent-over poses. I didn't want to see what might not be "downward facing" while we were in downward facing dog.

Mr. Shorts left after 45 minutes. The instructor continued to guide us in and out of poses while scrubbing his mat with what I hoped was industrial strength cleanser. I didn't ask, but I believe she was thinking, "Thank God he left before I put the class in 'the reclining pose of their choice.'"

He's not the first guy who's been in my yoga class. There was a nice gentleman in the Monday class. He actually apologized and moved his mat when we stretched out and he accidentally tickled my foot. He also wore longer shorts that covered all of his parts. He was even entertaining at times, like when we were in eagle pose (where you basically twist your arms and legs into knots and try to balance on one foot.) This fellow had some balance issues and but never untwisted his arms as he wobbled from one side to the other. He didn't completely topple over, to his credit. He just wobbled like a very drunk eagle whose friends dared him to twist his arms into knots and then left before helping him unwind.

There's another fellow that comes to class. He's not skinny and not very flexible, but that guy can hold a T-balance longer than anyone I've ever seen. And he wears shorts that cover all his parts.

As intimidating as yoga class can be for women, I imagine it must be worse for men. I'd like to be encouraging, but if you're going to sweat profusely and flash your private parts, please stay home.