namaste

Yoga is big in New York City. Really big. Advertisements for classes are everywhere, and I’ll frequently catch my friends and coworkers – even the ones I’d least suspect of being secret yoga acolytes – toting the tell-tale little mat. Frankly, I’ve been curious. Just last weekend, I had lunch with a college friend – previously one of the bitchier girls I knew – who had been doing yoga for several months and now had purged herself of negativity, would only say kind things about others. Whatever was happening in that yoga class must have been powerful stuff.

Still, I’ve been more than a bit skeptical of the yoga movement. After all, I’ve observed hundreds of classes from the corner of my eye while at the gym, and from what I could tell, yoga consists mainly of awkward, oddly-named stretching movements held while an overly flexible guru repeats the importance of ‘centering ones mind’ in the tone of voice normally found only in the extremely stoned or those suffering from affective disorders.

My father, a sports medicine physician and my erstwhile workout buddy, had apparently been curious as well. Since I’m staying with my parents here in Palo Alto, he decided to take advantage of my presence (sort of a ‘safety in numbers’ deal) to give yoga a test run. He had picked up a Living Arts yoga DVD (as their pilates DVD is one of the best), and last night we took a run through the beginning yoga workout. In short, it was mainly similar to the stretching routine I already do in preparation for kickboxing, the only differences being:

1. They aren’t ‘stretches,’ they’re ‘poses’ or ‘asanas.’

2. They’re not named ‘seated hamstring stretch’ or ‘standing hip flexor stretch’, they’re named ‘corpse pose,’ ‘downward dog pose’ and ‘warrior pose.’ (The final one evidencing why India had never become a world military power, as most other cultures would have seen more of a ‘guy who thinks he’s a warrior but is really just asking for a severe beating pose.’)

3. The routine concluded with a solemn statement of “namaste,” or (roughly translated from sanskrit) “I honor the place in you in which the entire universe dwells. I honor the place in you, which is of light and peace. When you are in that place in you and I am in that place in me, we are one.”

Apparently, I wasn’t in that place in me of light and peace where the entire universe dwells, because the instructor struck me as, basically, a moron. More than once, I also caught myself thinking: “You mean, if I do this for years, I’ll end up looking and acting like this guy? Looks like I’ve done just about enough yoga, thanks.”

It was definitely worthwhile though. Just one hour and my yoga curiosity is fully sated – you’ll never see me in the ‘powerful mountain pose’ again. Namaste.

hit me baby one more time

Special note to any readers intending to dislocate their shoulder: Don’t. It hurts like a bitch.

While training Brazilian Jiu Jitsu (or, as my mother refers to it, “beat ’em up”) last night, I managed to pop my shoulder out of the socket. Not high on my list of life experiences worth repeating. Which brings up a question that several readers (and my mother) have asked on multiple occasions: Why in God’s name do you do full-contact martial arts? What are you, nuts? (Short answer: well, obviously.)

The problem, really, is that most people see mixed martial arts or “no holds barred” competition as much more dangerous / exotic / groundbreaking / whatever than it really is. In truth, it’s essentially just a combination of three popular existing Olympic sports: boxing, judo and wrestling. The phrase “no holds barred” is itself a misnomer, as an extensive set of rules does exist, similar to those of the three constituent sports. In fact, in the sport’s ten year history, the percentage of tournament bouts leading to serious injury has been lower than the percentage in boxing or judo matches.

None the less, I don’t want to sugar coat it. The sport is basically two guys trying to beat the crap out of each other until one gives up. So why would I possibly do it? Two main reasons:

Zen calm. As noted by Nobel laureate Konrad Lorenz, any animal that has friendship also has intraspecies aggression, and the instinctual and insuppressible need to discharge that aggression. While many people ‘vent’ through activities like weight lifting, creative writing, or competitive macram

isn’t that for girls?

While I had known about Pilates for some time, I always mentally grouped the exercise along with Step Aerobics and TaeBo: perhaps appealing to middle-aged suburban women, but not really my thing. Worse, I kept coming across celebrity endorsements of Pilates (Madonna, Uma Thurman, Courtney Cox, etc.), which, given the track record of Scientology, gave me even more serious pause. So it was with great trepidation, and only based upon the strong recommendations of both my father (a sports medicine physician) and my kickboxing coach that I began to investigate Pilates.

Initially, I was relieved to learn that Joseph Pilates was an accomplished boxer himself, and that one of his earliest students, Max Schmeling, won the world heavyweight boxing championship while under Pilates instruction. Still, watching students going through the 34 exercise mat workout, my initial reaction was: this looks really stupid. People lying on little mats, swinging their legs and rolling around. How hard could it be, I thought. Famous last words.

I’ve been doing Pilates for about a month, and by now I can usually sit up without assistance the following morning. In that time, my kickboxing and jiu jitsu have improved noticeably. I find I’m standing taller (and at 5’6″ I need all the height I can get). My waist size has dropped (Pilates tightens the transversus abdominus, yielding a waspishly thin waist) and, combined with decreased body fat (current status: 8%), my abs are the most six-packed they’ve ever been.

Still, I feel a bit unsure of my Pilates allegiance. “What kind of pansy workout is that,” I’m certain people are thinking, and I occasionally catch myself thinking the same thing. But my kickboxing has improved too significantly to give up for such small misgivings. Besides, if anyone gives me a hard time about it, I can always kick them in the head. Which, thanks to Pilates, should really hurt.

skiboarding

A shot from Whistler with my brother

(left) and I putting on our skiboards. For more information

about skiboarding, the best winter sport I’ve tried (more fun than snowboarding, nordic skiing, or telemarking), head to skiboards.com.