The sweat was dripping from my ears, I felt it running down my cheeks and dripped from my chin, making the yoga mat all soggy and slippery. When he said “shaturanga” for the fifth time one third of me wanted to give up. One third wanted to keep pushing it, and the last third wanted to beat him. Gently, of course.
I kept on pushing it.
After class the subject of conversation was all about how tough the class was, and during dinner we decided to tell the manager that the class is too tough and that the guy had to easen it a bit. We’re all beginners, and he can see that.
Instead he’s just smiling at us standing there shaking in postures that’s exceeding our strengths.
“He’s a masochist really” one of my new friends said during dinner.
Imagine. We’ve all gone from yoga once or twice a week, to three hours super tough practice per day. But it feels good afterwards indeed.