Beware of Yoga

I have no problem admitting that the practitioners of yoga wierd me out, right a long with the eccentric instructors who run these spandex pajama parties. Through the years while working in health clubs, I have had my share of run-ins with some of these edgy pathological euphoria seeking yuppies. There have been instances that I have had to restrain myself from grabbing one or more of them and keep from beating him/her unconscious with a rolled up yoga mat. Afterwards, I would have liked to have stood over their limp bodies and asked, "do you feel relaxed?" I know that seems a bit drastic, but these moody little creatures can pack quite an attitude.

Unlike private studios that exclusively offer yoga, health clubs provide a variety of different types of classes. Thus there has to be a greater cooperative effort by members and instructors to transition smoothly from one class type to another. For instance, 60 minute classes are really 55 minute classes to allow one class time to put away their equipment and exit the aerobic studio, so that the next class can enter and set-up their equipment. Now this can become an issue at any gym regardless of the class type, but I find participants and instructors of yoga are the most stank about it. Members routinely show up for yoga classes 15 - 20 minutes early to huddle around the doors and windows of the aerobic studio to affirm their presence, while they take turns staring at the class already in progress and checking their watches. This annoys me to no end, because these same critical time keepers are not half as prompt about leaving as they are coming. Unfortunately, I have had to teach one of my boxing/kickboxing classes prior to a yoga class and deal with these early- bird K-Mart shoppers. The next time it happens, I think I will turn my class loose for some practical experience with live targets.

Next, there is the removal of their shoes which they leave outside of the studio. Just lovely, now everyone in the gym can have the pleasure of smelling sweaty feet emanating from 2 dozen pairs of Birkenstock sandals. It's like a 2 ton cook-off contest of chitterlings (small intestine of swine.)

Here is another novel thought, hot yoga. I think it is a great idea to turn up the heat to the temperature of hell while you pose like a pretzel in lake size puddles of your own sweat. Oh what a delight it must be for women to see over-weight hairy back middle-age men in Speedos displaying their package. If your lucky ladies you might have the opportunity to be seated behind one of these burly stud-buckets when he poses in such a way that it gives you a great view of his back-shot.

God help you if you ever leave an item behind and you have to go back to retrieve it after a yoga class has started. Once the seance begins, it's cult members only. If you feel a sharp pain in your back later on that evening, you'll know that the head yogi has put roots on you. Better make a call to "Buffy The Vampire Slayer."

My advice to you is to go to the gym in pairs, avoid making direct eye contact, keep a yoga bite antidote handy in your gym-bag, and most importantly never leave your keys in the aerobic studio just before a yoga class is scheduled to begin.