I did my third yoga class yesterday. It turns out to be a lot of fun, except that every time I bend over my enormous belly reminds me that I’m almost 51 years old and 40 pounds overweight. Sigh. Hopefully more yoga will help — I don’t expect it to help me lose weight, but maybe I’ll at least be able to move it out of the way somehow.
One thing I like about yoga, at least so far, is it doesn’t seem to make me stiff the next day like I was in a boxing match the day before. The battle against being completely seized up and walking around bent over like an old man gets worse every day, so anything that makes me more flexible is a very good thing.
There’s a bigger thing though, which has been apparent to me for a long time although I haven’t acted on it: I do much better at exercise with a supervisor. The chances that I will really push myself working out alone on the erg are almost vanishingly small. If I’m in a group or with a private instructor, though, I will obediently put myself through all kinds of searing pain just because they say I should. Why should this be so, I wonder? Suggestion and expectations are powerful things.
I’m pretty sure there is a lesson hidden in here about management…