A few weeks ago, Will and Aaron took us on a team training excursion: aerial yoga in Campbell. I envisioned Cirque du Soleil type trapeze stuff, I was all about it. The second we arrived in the studio, Stasha and I just started playing… getting a running start, we’d swing in the hammocks, flip ourselves upside down, and take boat pose just inches off the ground. It was SUPER fun.

Once class started, we all felt pretty awesome. Like, even though we’ve never done this before, we can totally do aerial. We’re yogis. We can pretty much do anything. When the instructor complimented our bulldog-style breathing (“I love a class that can breathe!”) we felt pretty confident. We used the hammock like a strap to open our shoulders, which felt amazing. We did chaturangas with our feet in the hammocks, which made them infinitely harder. I, being the accidental-yoga-slacker that I am (I always forget to engage SOMETHING that should be engaged, even when I focus), felt my core fire up way more than normal. Perhaps this is what it should always feel like? Hmmm. What a thought.

After warming up, it became clear that aerial yoga is not just fun, it’s HARD. We started doing the upside down stuff. This is where it got a little difficult for me. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE going upside down, but I hardly ever do it for more than a minute at a time. In aerial, we spent a lot of time upside down, and it was significantly more than I was used to. I’d have to come up and let the blood drain back into my body, I’d have to shimmy around and get the hammock to sit more comfortably on my hips, I’d have to raise my hands above my head to get them to stop feeling so puffy. I turned red as a tomato, and sometimes forgot to breathe, and wondered if I was the only one in the room who felt like my head was possibly going to explode.

Then I saw Stasha totally rocking her upside-down-dancer’s pose. It was beautiful, she was hanging upside down, her face calm, both feet gripping her foot behind her, letting the motions of the hammock twirl her gently in the sunlight. It was just stunning.

“Wow,” I said, “That looks awesome. How can you even do that?”

“You can do it too,” she said, “Your foot is right there, just grab it.”

I flailed my fingers around a little, felt something warm and chubby, and felt a tingling sensation somewhere just above my head.

“Holy shit,” I said, “There’s my foot!”

And right then, I felt like I “got” it.

Maybe I had to give up my dream of Cirque du Soleil (s’ok, Loran’s going to go represent us all) but I did learn something from my afternoon upside down. Literally, it came in the form of my foot: I can never quite reach my foot in eka pada rajakapotasana, but for some reason, I could when I was inverted. More importantly, it was fun to play around, and to step outside my comfort zone, push the boundaries of the familiar. It gave me a sense of heightened awareness, a freedom to fool around, and permission to say Umm, that feels weird.

So. Would I trade my vinyasa flow for aerial? Probably not. Would I do it again? Definitely. Was it awesome to bond with the very people who make Yoga Belly the amazing, quirky studio that it is? Umm, yeah, because anytime your ass is spinning around upside down offering all your neighbors a panoramic view, it, well, builds some trust. Did I learn that defamiliarizing something you love can open up possibilities that you didn’t know existed? Absolutely.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why it’s important to, on occasion, step outside of your comfort zone. Even if it’s just with a baby toe. Like, a baby toe, in your hand, right above your head, which is upside down.

Let’s just all pretend that made sense.

Oh, and savasana in a giant hammock-cocoon thing? Best. Thing. Ever.

You might think of yoga as gentle and restorative (at least, until you know better, and realize that yoga can kick your ass) but that line of thinking can be dangerous. ANY activity comes with inherent risks, and yoga is no exception.

You can get hurt. Really hurt. A recent New York Times article outlines just some of the havoc that yoga can wreak on your body.

Luckily, I can’t speak from too much experience here. I have yet to injure myself in yoga (knock on wood). I think I have, however, come close. One time, I was so deep in a twist that I felt this weird, sudden shift in my ribs– it didn’t hurt, but it startled me, and I came out of the pose right away and everything was fine. Another time, as I was working on a bind, I felt these weird shocks all of a sudden, like mini bursts of electricity shooting through me. I assumed I somehow touched on a nerve, and again, it didn’t hurt, but I came out of the pose thinking, “Whoa.” I probably shouldn’t have done that. I probably take my backbends too far sometimes, and wake up the next morning more tender than I should be.

It’s a fine line to walk: on the one hand, you want to push yourself, and you’re doing all this funky stuff with your body that you’ve never done before, everything’s so unfamiliar! How can you tell when you cross the line from challenging and new to dangerous and over the edge?

For now, my answer is: know thyself. I know I have a tendency to push it, so I need to work on playing it safe. Not wussing out by any means, but respecting and protecting my body. It’s just not worth an injury that will leave me out of commission for weeks and weeks!

So now, readers out there, what do you think? Have you ever injured yourself in your practice? Have you come close? How can you tell when you’re flirting with danger?

I’ve often wondered if yoga is at odds with goal setting. I mean, you’re supposed to be accepting yourself in the here and now, right? But at the same time pushing yourself to your end range? We all love the feeling of doing something we didn’t used to be able to do, is there a problem with actively chasing that feeling?

I set two “yoga goals” last year, and I didn’t “accomplish” either of them. I can’t do the splits, nor can I do handstand. Meh. Maybe that’s the kind of goal setting that doesn’t mesh well with yoga. Teacher’s would call this a “results-oriented goal,” really dorky education peeps would call it a “summative assessment.” Meaning, here’s your deadline, can you do it? Yes or no. The answer is black and white, and shows no distinction between being aaaaaaaalmost there, and miles away. Improvement counts for nothing.

The other type of goal (that, turns out, is much more effective in the classroom) seems to be the kind of goal that can be in the same room with yoga. This is the “process-oriented goal,” the “formative assessment.” It’s not about what you can and cannot do (seriously, out of those thousands and thousands of asanas, the former would be depressing), but about the way you go about it. Your process counts. Your effort. Your attitude. Whether or not you check off the “yes” box at the end of the year/month/day, you have a whole spectrum of softer skills to evaluate. This is actually harder to do (hence the reason why most classrooms rely on the former. What’s the difference between an A- and a B+ in effort, anyway?), but when it’s done correctly, it can be a lot more motivating for students, and it usually yields better results.

Okay. End of nerdy teacher stuff. I will set goals in yoga, but not the kind I set last year. I’m afraid that by writing them out, they’ll all sound cliche, but basically, I just want to do it. I just want to go there. To stop thinking about it, stop second-guessing, stop throwing out terms like “end range” and “comfort zone” and just do it already! Go, girl, go!

So, I’m curious. What are your yoga goals this year?

Cheers to you! xoxo

I was really struck by Matt’s post on Chasing Success, especially the part about how quickly you sometimes “progress” in the beginning of your yoga practice. For me, that post hit very close to home, and I wanted to share my thoughts.

Before I started practicing regularly, I couldn’t even touch my toes. Touch my toes, kids. I was TWENTY-SIX YEARS OLD. And my toes were out of reach. Also, I would get ridiculously sore after every class. Like, it-hurts-too-much-to-lift-my-arm-and-brush-my-teeth-sore. Honestly, when I first started, I didn’t even know hips could stretch, or where my hamstrings were. I would sashay down the grocery store aisles, not sure why my hips felt like jello, thinking, why is my butt so sore? I knew 4 muscle groups: arms, legs, butt, and abs. It was not a pretty picture.

After a few weeks of yoga, that started to change. It didn’t take long at all, and before the month was over, I was getting up into headstand. A few classes later, I did a rotating headstand. I busted out astavakrasana after two months. I felt like I was born for this, and should probably see about getting yoga into the Olympics and training for my new career as an Olympic yogini. Because see, that’s how I still thought of yoga: that’s how competitive I was.

Thankfully, I got a little reality check. I started to learn what yoga was really about (at least for me… some people still want to see it in the Olympics, but that’s not my bag anymore), and I started to respect it for what it was. I also began to see my journey through yoga less as “progress” than I did as a way of building my relationship with my body, my balance and focus, and my practice. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that while, yes, my body did change once I started practicing–it got stronger and slightly more flexible– what really changed was how well I got to know my own body. I got to know my own strength, and how to balance, and how to stack and align my joints to make the poses “click” rather than muscling my way into them. I learned how to push through what I thought was my end range. I learned how to actually stretch. I learned to trust myself, and that even if I did face plant in an arm balance, my face was only a few inches from the floor, and falling didn’t hurt. I learned that even if I did try taking handstand off the wall and forgot to engage my core like mad and my feet went sailing over my head, I could catch myself, or at least cartwheel down. I could fall and not flail terrifyingly out of control.

Who am I kidding, I’m still learning. Donkey kicks still scare the crap out of me. But I’ve taken the word “progress” down a notch, and am thinking of it more like making acquaintance with all my muscle groups. I still get stronger, I still get more flexible, but I’ve also learned not to flip out at myself for being too tired to get into parsva bakasana. I am learning to ignore the urge to “win,” to “progress,” to “conquer” the splits or tittibhasana.

I am, ironic though it is, learning to play.

Yoga is, by nature, an accepting, less “judgy” practice than a lot of other fitness regimes (for lack of a better word), but there is still an unspoken code of conduct. Here are some bits of yoga etiquette that I wish I had known early on:

Before Class:

-Arrive on Time: If you must be late, (it happens), be quick and discreet about it. If you’re going to be more than 10-15 minutes late, you may opt to come back another day.

-Turn off your Cell Phone: For reals. Nothing takes you out of your hard earned savasana like the “I’m a Slave for You” ring tone going on in your neighbor’s purse.

-Take Off Your Shoes: No shoes in the studio! Gross!

-Don’t Be a Mirror Hog: Be aware of mirror space, and try to avoid plunking down right in front of a fellow yogi, or otherwise hogging the mirror. All you need is a few inches.

During Class:

-Modify Appropriately: Be the master of your own practice, and by all means challenge yourself. Make the practice yours.

-Don’t Fall on Anyone: That said, please don’t fall on anyone. It’s dangerous and not at all cool.

After Class:

-Try Not To Leave Early: But if you must, don’t interrupt savasana for others.

-Thank Your Instructor: Respect your instructor by thanking her for guiding you through the poses.

-Give everyone sloppy kisses, heartfelt good byes, and loving booty-smacks!

Heh. That last one is optional. Maybe after you’ve had a few weeks of bonding with other yogis : )

And now, in case for some reason you ever need to change in public, here’s a guide on how to change clothes after practicing yoga without inflicting on God and everyone the sight of your splayed buttocks.

A few weeks ago, I had my first private yoga lesson.

I wanted to make sure I had all my basics covered, so that I could move into more challenging poses with ta solid foundation. I didn’t want to learn any bad habits, and I felt like I was ready for the “next step” in yoga.

So, I show up to the studio, and to warm up, I have to get into headstand and touch my feet to the floor and back up again, five times. I’m a little nervous about the piking part, but my headstand has felt strong for months, so I figure I’ll give it a try.

Cue humble pie.

First off, I hadn’t been doing headstand properly. I didn’t realize there was a “proper” way, I thought as long as your feet went over your head and you didn’t topple over onto anyone, you were golden. I was wrong. My elbows were too far apart, my head was too close to my hands, it was a disaster.

Here’s where a private lesson starts looking different from a group class: EVERY little detail gets serious attention. In a group of 15 students, no instructor has the time to kneel down by you, skooch your elbows into exactly the right position, and stand behind you as you lift your feet up. In a private lesson, everything gets adjusted precisely, and when I picked up my shaking legs, the instructor was right behind me, guiding my hips, pointing out things I didn’t even notice (like, apparently I was leaning more on one elbow than the other). Nothing was overlooked. I got massaged every time I took a break. I started to realize just how much I was in for, and I was loving it.

Coming Up: Sun Salutations (And you thought they were easy!)

I received an email from the lovely Laurel Thompson, an ER nurse in Palo Alto who just started practicing at YB. She asked the same questions I was asking a few months ago, so I thought I’d share them on here in case there are any other newbies out there who are curious.

Disclaimer: I am a beginning yogini in EVERY SENSE OF THE WORD. If you have serious questions, please direct them to one of our capable, accomplished instructors… I can only speak for myself, and I don’t even have a solid idea of where my hip flexors are, so take all this with a grain of salt.

Anyway, take it away Laurel!

“Today was invigorating, I sweat more than I thought I ever could and was very impressed with William and how friendly everyone was. I will be returning to yoga belly! From a beginners stand point what do you recommend? Would you stick to the yoga belly classes for awhile then move to the power yoga? How many days should I aim to go to a class. Let me know what you think I would love any suggestions!!!”

So, here are my thoughts.

Personally, I find the Yoga Belly classes to be just as much as a cardio workout as the power classes, though the power classes do a little more in terms of technique, and it helps to be familiar with some of the basic poses because we move through them really quickly in power. I don’t think the power classes are HARDER (some people do, but I still sweat my brains out in Yoga Belly), but instructors will say things like, “Come up into Warrior 2″ instead of “Turn your front foot to face the mirror, square your hips to the parking lot, relax the shoulders, tuck the pelvis under, find the 50/50 weight distribution, and gaze over your middle finger.” You’ll also do a bunch of funky poses in power that you don’t really do in YB. Most importantly, you’ll see all levels in all the classes, and poses can be modified to meet your particular needs on that particular day. So, don’t be intimidated, just go to class and make it about YOUR practice.

If I were you, I’d try both and see which you like! I started with the Hour of Power classes, did a few YB classes, and then worked up to the 75 and 90 minute classes a few months later. 90 minutes of power is still pretty intense for me, and I still go to the YB classes, especially if I need to revisit my foundation.

As far as how often you should practice, that all depends on your goals, schedule, and other fitness interests. Since I don’t do much else besides yoga and snowboarding in the winter, I try to go 4-5 times a week, which means I usually go 3-4 times a week. If I’m too sore to hold a pose for longer than a split second, I take a day off, but I find if I go less than 3 times a week I don’t really progress the way I’d like to. Also, when I first started practicing, I was doing some running and kickboxing at the gym. However, I found that I ended up with tight muscles, and it really affected my yoga. I decided to take 6 months off from everything else and just focus on yoga, and that really worked for me. So much, in fact, that a year later I’m just now incorporating running and other activities into my routine : ) But, that’s just me! Some people come once or twice a week because they do triathlons and circuit training or just work 60 hours a week, so everyone’s different. You’ll find a stride that works for you.

So, welcome new yogis and yoginis! We hope you’re settling in and getting to know this wacky, sweaty, sexy new family of yours. If you have any other questions that a yoga newbie can answer, please feel free to ask! For the hard stuff, there’s a yoga mama or yoga daddy out there who will be much more helpful than myself.

Coming soon: Yoga Gear for Newbies: Mats, Towels, and Tanks, Oh My! A Collection of Gear For Every Budget

Image courtesy of lululemon.com

“You cannot do yoga.  Yoga is your natural state.  What you can do are yoga exercises, which may reveal to you where you are resisting your natural state.”  ~Sharon Gannon

During the summer, I find myself traipsing to and from vacations, weekend getaways, the occasional bender… not that I’m complaining! And, in the summer, my body confronts various maladies that don’t seem to affect it during the rest of the year: poison oak, sunburns, mosquito bites. They have kept me out of the studio for whole weeks! It feels like I take three giant steps backwards by the time I get back to the studio, even if I’ve only missed a few days. But, I don’t think saying no to adventure is the answer! It’s just that, even away from my Yoga Belly home, I need to take the time to stretch. To relax. To breathe.

In this spirit, I hope you all…

A little “chakra-for-dummies” for those of us who could use a reference : ) Bigger-ize it to find out more.

Happy Tuesday!

Thanks to YogaDork