How my Saturday mornings improve my life.

Most every Saturday morning I go a Methodist church to attend my advanced yoga class.  Someone once said to me that they heard that yoga relaxes you.  To which I replied, “Yes, the pain keeps you from thinking of anything else.”  And, it’s good for you, too.

Anyway, me and 3 to a dozen women pay a five-two, sixty year old, woman $10 a session to beat the carp out of us.  It’s wonderful.  I’m sure it’s part of the same psychology that keeps me going back to business start-ups.  I’ve been doing this for 11 years now, which means that the class I attend is an “advanced” yoga class.  This means to get what a beginner gets from 10 minutes and a few basic poses now takes me 90 and a half-dozen moves that have many of the women in the class saying “What the fuck?”

It is corny to say that yoga saved my life, but it did.  I see guys my age hobbling around and I know it’s because they have bad hamstrings.  I see much older people with walkers because their muscles have atrophied.  Yoga will prevent that sort of thing from happening.  I expect to do a yoga routine on the day I die.  It just makes my quality of life better.

I’m Catholic.  About two years ago I saw an article by some priest about how yoga was anti-Catholic because it added to the “cult of the body.”  Well, if you have a large enough group of people you get a few idiots.  To this guy, somehow taking good care of yourself was a sin.  Well, count me in, because if my body is in good shape I can contribute more to society.  I can be more productive.

Anyway, if your a boomer, or not, give yoga a try.   Now, you have to try it for 6 weeks straight before you can say if it’s for you or not.  Anything less and you’re just wimping out.