It's been one whole year since I broke my ankle now, so I am giving myself until the end of December to quit talking about it . . . but it is relevant to my review of Whole Life Yoga . . . or, at least I'll MAKE it relevant so I can mention it :o)
You know that girl? That cute, teensy girl wearing the cool, color-coordinated Athleta yoga outfit with the appropriately zen-like tattoo in a place only exposed during the most twisty of yoga poses that she executes flawlessly--? I am afraid that if I attend a yoga class with a group of them, they will execute a series of yoga poses in perfect synchronization, and then simultaneously change into fembot ninja assassins and turn on me.
I'M the girl who looks like a real person, wears whatever is handy to work out in--and probably accidentally spilled something on herself on the way to class--develops bed head after lying on the yoga mat for 5 seconds and can't even THINK about imitating a pretzel because of all of the creaks and groans and current structural concerns of my skeletal system. Right now I'm pretty happy if I can get from lying down to sitting or standing with no major muscle spasms.
So, I really wanted to try yoga to further work on my ankle (still swollen and hard to flex after a year), incorporate a mind-body workout for relaxation and reap the other many benefits . . . but I was intimidated. It's like any new thing for me: I fear judgment and massive humiliation but (eventually) have to power through it anyway--there aren't REALLY any fembots, right? Or, I am sure they are all very nice, once you get to know them . . . So I started looking on Yelp for the least of all scary yoga studios. Whole Life branded itself as yoga for real people, so I gave it a shot.
I am SO glad I did! Everyone is so nice, and helpful and everything else that has been said in other reviews. I was shocked to discover that a lot of the people that go there have worse issues than a broken ankle--I was feeling pretty good that I ONLY had a broken ankle.
We all do what we can and progress at our own rate, and there is always someone to help you modify a pose (I think they have a person on stand-by full-time for me). I've gone from being super-intimidated to doing yoga three times a week with zero habit-building pains.
And those perfect people? I figured out that they only exist in magazines, television and in website photos . . . actually, I see a lot of "beautiful" people at Whole Life, but they are beautiful in a real-person, three-dimensional way . . . sort of like a Dove soap commercial. :o) read more