yoga

Nah, I'ma Stay

As I made my way to Ubud, a kind of free-spirit Mecca in central Bali, I was mildly anxious about what I was about to get myself into. Ubud’s popularity with tourists has sky-rocketed since it was a part of the Eat, Pray, Love craze however long ago. I’m not sure if Ubud was the eat, the pray, or the love portion of the book, but suffice to say there’s plenty of room for all three in the area. While many of the rice terraces have turned to day spas and guest-houses, Ubud retains its charm flawlessly, where luxury, health, and peace can be found down nearly every alley. Well, maybe not on Monkey Forest road, there’s nothing peaceful about little monkeys trying to steal your stuff.

Anyways, my plan upon arrival in Ubud was to, for the first time in my life, take a yoga class. If ever I was going to do it, this would be the place. Being the manly man I pretend to be, I’d never stepped foot in a yoga studio, hell, even on a yoga mat. Not my thing. I’ve always been more comfortable on a basketball court or baseball field, tight hamstrings and all. Nothing a little IcyHot can’t fix. Now was the time, however, to do one of those uncomfortable things I always preach to my friends about doing.

The first day I chickened out, opting instead to explore the endless shops, juice bars, organic eateries, temples, and monkey habitats. I did end the day with a nice massage, and an exfoliating body scrub that wiped off the 3 months of filth I’d built up on the trails in New Zealand. Baby Steps. Day 2 was judgement day. I showed up to the Intro to Yoga class and was the only one there for 10 minutes. Please no. Little by little, a handful of people trickled in, making for a little less awkward first time. I laughed to myself as I was coached through the Ohms and breath exercises, the internal searching, and the salutations to our closest star. It wasn’t a laugh directed towards the practice, but simply an acknowledgement that I was there, fully participating in something I shunned for so long. My favorite pose was one of the warriors, naturally, and, I must admit, I did feel pretty damn good afterwards, though I expected not to be able to walk in the coming days from the contorting my body had to endure. While I won’t be turning into a yogi anytime soon, perhaps I may succumb to my sister’s prodding to join in on some yoga after I return.

Walking around town, I couldn’t help but be in an utterly peaceful state, still riding the high from Bingin Beach, reinforced by the bodily nourishment in Ubud.

Namaste