Taking a great yoga class can be a great way to steal an hour away to yourself – but going to class with a friend (followed by brunch, of course) can be just as fun. But what about taking your husband to try downward dog and warrior?
I was curious (and okay, really intrigued to see how he would fumble in those poses!) – so last week, I took my hubby to his first yoga class. Ever.
Granted, as a college soccer player more than 10 years ago he did some yoga moves as part of training, but this was his first time going to a small, private studio and appreciating a true yoga practice, along with some serious yogis.
We attended Moxie Yoga Fitness, a lovely little one-room studio in the popular Mission neighborhood of San Francisco, which offers all levels of yoga classes, with special curated playlists for every single session.
During the Moxie Fundamentals class, we spent a little longer than normal setting up each posture and learning the special techniques and alignment. After the first half of class, things sped up a little and it got heated in that small, intimate room. There is something really peaceful about practicing yoga in a small studio… it’s like stealing away a private island for an hour of relaxing and rejuvenating.
When I looked over at my husband, whose mat was just one foot from mine, he had beads of sweat forming on his forehead just from the initial deep breathing in the beginning of class. As the postures came at us quicker, his grey t-shirt became black, he had already soaked through the thick cotton towel he brought to assist and little puddles were forming under his body on his mat.
I was sweaty too – but not quite as much! I couldn’t help but continue glancing to my right to check on his form. He did a decent job making his body fold and bend into poses it’s clearly never tried to achieve in a decade, but the sweat, well, that was another issue. It was rattling him. He was not worried about anything other than getting through the one hour without calling even more attention to himself.
He did finish, and at the end, I thanked him for the effort. As we drove to the Whole Foods salad bar – as any self-respecting yogi would do on a Sunday afternoon after class – I asked him about the experience. “I literally couldn’t contain my sweat. Could you imagine if that had been Bikram? I think I soaked the mat all the way through!”
He was a trooper, and I know his body appreciated the session. Lessons learned though: a dude might need a personal fan blowing on his face. Now we know!
Ashley Pitt is a freelance writer, personal trainer, group fitness instructor and the creator of A Lady Goes West, a popular blog about her adventures in fitness, food and fun in San Francisco. Follow her on Twitter, Instagram, Bloglovin’ or Facebook.