You say pranna, I say prah-na, let’s call the whole thing chi.

I don’t sweat nearly as much doing any other workout as I do practicing yoga. Maybe it’s my out-of-shapeness and the fact that I’m still in my third week of this new journey. Maybe it’s the room we’re in, cooling off from the 100+ degrees class before mine (I’ve done that class and you might as well just wear your towel; you’ll never put it down). Maybe it’s the 30+ other students on their own paths. Either way, I’ve never dripped so much saltwater out of these pores as I do in these classes.

Then again, I’ve never felt as connected to the workout as I do now. It doesn’t even seem sufficent any more to say “work out,” because this is more than just about fitness. The real reason I started this was because my friends told me I needed to chill out, that no 24-year old should be having real honest-to-blog anxiety attacks as a result of well, my life. The idea was that I needed to set aside time for me not only to relax and veg out in front of American Idol (though AI’s therapeutic benefits are not to be disputed), but to set aside time for me to do something proactive, something that would not only release the stress but counter it. Yoga seemed to be the answer. I hoped it would provide a holistic “work out”; physical fitness + some mental stability.

My first class was Yoga Sculpt with Steph at the SLP Core Power Yoga studio. Needless to say, I sufficiently got my first yoga ass kicking. But I also got hooked. The high I felt after completing it, surviving the 103 degree temp while quickly moving through yoga poses carrying weights all along the way. I felt like not falling flat on my face meant that I could take on the world.

The first week was free, so I tried again a few days later with Steph at the Mpls studio. This time we tried the first level class taught by Tori. He, btw, is awesome. It was the smallest class I’ve taken so far, but where I didn’t get my ass handed to me by the teacher this time, I got pushed to the limit and wanted more when it was over. My shavasana was as thoughtless and open as the ocean itself.

So I’ve been back a few times since then, but tonight was the best. Maybe it was the teacher, maybe it was the class, I don’t know. But somewhere in the middle of Warrior 2 I got this overwhelming determination. I was going to get this, and I was going to get it without falling or looking like I pulled a muscle in my back. And I did. (get it, not pull a muscle) Mostly. My “dedication” at the beginning of class was to try something new – in the back of my mind I was envisioning a perfect crow’s pose – something I haven’t even gotten close to – so I pushed myself through things I haven’t been able to do before (like low plank). And I even got the base for crow. I couldn’t get my feet off the ground, but I got contorted the way I’m supposed to. Maybe next time I’ll get one foot up.

Either way, something clicked this time. Somewhere in the middle of downward dog and upward dog and chair pose and tree pose, I found focus. Seriously! I just found this determination that I was going to get it.

I find it strange that I’m best at the balancing poses, especially when I’m so good at excess elsewhere in my life! It’s kind of encouraging though… kind of inspires me that if I can stand in tree pose for that long, I can get a grip on my savings, and cluttter, and life in general.

To top all of this off, my feelings of clarity and focus, of determination and centeredness were sealed in as I walked out of the locker room, through the cozy lobby and towards the door that leads into the Chipotle-scented building, by nothing other than “The Electric Version” by The New Pornographers, which is one of my favorite songs on one of my all-time favorite albums.

I’m totally buying into this whole thing.