Yoga Rage


First of all, I hate crowds so I really can’t stand crowded yoga classes.  But I’m really trying to do two yoga classes a week because it calms my mind, makes me more focused and reduces sports injuries.  So today, since I hadn’t done my second yoga class, I forced myself to go to a Sunday morning class.  I knew it would be crowded so I arrived a half an hour early to get a roomy spot in the back of the class with a wall behind me and a wall to the right of me.

Satisfied with my mat placement I got started on some relaxing “cat and cows” back stretches in the totally empty yoga studio.  Minutes later a man walked in and headed straight over to my peaceful corner and unrolled his mat about three inches away from mine.  If you didn’t know us you would have thought we were a couple that had come together.  If it were my actual husband Britt that had placed his mat that close I would have told him to move over, but this was a stranger, in an empty room!  What was he doing when he had the whole room to  choose from?

I absolutely should have just gotten up and moved my mat right then and there but I figured the room was going to get full anyway so I’d just ignore him.  So instead I sighed audibly and passive aggressively moved my mat closer to the wall and more forward to get some space from him.  He propped his legs up on a bolster and fell asleep.

The class started to fill up but miraculously it wasn’t very crowded and there were big gaps between all the students.  In fact,  to the left of us was a giant 8 foot gap just waiting to be filled by this boundary-less weirdo next to me.  It was 8:57, three more minutes and the door will close and the guy next to me can move his mat away from me.

9:00am, the gap is still there!  Normally, when this happens, yoga people will giddily jump up and begin creating luxurious spaces between their mats.  Not this guy, he was staying put, three inches away from me.  My blood began to boil.

The meditation began.  “After the meditation I’ll tell him to move over.”  I said to myself.   I tried to use the deep breathing techniques to calm me but the fresh oxygen seemed to just flame the rage fire burning in me.

“AAAAAAAAaaaaaooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmm.”  He sang out shamelessly, marking the end of meditation.  I turned to him and asked him to move his mat over since there was so much space we could both have more room.  “I’ll just move back.”  He declared.  He moved just his body back on the mat and kept his mat exactly where it was.  I was stunned.

While the class had moved on to side stretches while sitting Indian style my head was exploding and smoke was coming out of my ears.  What is this guy’s deal???  He just wasn’t going to move.  My brain filled with hot blood.  I couldn’t take a full breath I was so angry.  I was shaking with silent rage.

Yes, at that moment I could have moved my mat over to the gap but by then I was so mad, yoga was not going to happen for me.  Furthermore, I had no interest in downward dogging anywhere near this guy for an hour and a half.  As the class moved on to neck circles I stood up, rolled up my mat, gathered my things, stepped on his mat as I put my bolster away and walked out.

The gal at the front desk was nice enough to refund my money and was really understanding even though I probably seemed like a red faced rage spewing maniac.  Oh well though.   In this day and age, with the political climate being what it is, I have no time for men forcing their will over my personal space.  I just cannot even right now.

So I cooled down by going for a long walk around the neighborhood and returned home to Britt.  He patiently listened to my whole story.  He told me the guy seemed like a total weirdo and I wholeheartedly agreed.



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