Day 36: I Have Never Attended a Yoga Class

You get what you pay for, as they say. Here’s what you get when the price is $0:

You get your wife’s old yoga mat because it’s readily available, but it’s thin and it makes your brittle wrists hurt and you can see why she wanted to replace it.

You get an instructor who uses a shitty speaker system that conks out halfway through so he then has to yell his instructions that are also supposed to relax you somehow, and you get instructions that are themselves confusing to an amateur such as me, because I don’t know jackshit about yoga.

You get two homeless dudes staring down at you for about 20 minutes straight, just staring, because there are 20 women there in tight clothing and even though you are a loose-clothed man, it still makes you uncomfortable.

You get the pain and agony that a very unlimber man gets when he attempts to do yoga.

But you also get to unwind after it’s over, silently laying on the ground as the sun peeks over the Ben Franklin Bridge and your breathing calms and the only thing you hear is the Delaware River gently lapping against the pier.

I will not be attending another yoga class anytime soon, but that last part almost made it worth it.

Love,
Joey