Yoga, For the Right Reasons

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Round 5: "Inspire Us."

Pain occurred in my leg over a weekend. It was worst in my left knee, and when I kept my leg straight it wasn’t as bad. I was wandering around with my boyfriend and his parents in a tourist town near where they lived. By Monday, I’d returned to college, and the pain was unbearable. It took over half an hour to go a few blocks, my friend by my side half-carrying me. I went to visit my boyfriend instead of going home to my apartment.

An hour later I was in tears. I’d called my doctor, then my mother. Mom called the doctor and bullied them into seeing me. My boyfriend carried me downstairs while our friend opened the doors for us. He drove me to the doctor in my truck. (He didn’t have a car on campus.)

The doctor labeled it bursitis, put me in a brace, and sent me home with medicine. I had to wear the brace for two weeks. Walking wasn’t easy. Stairs required both feet on each step. Desks cut into the top of the brace and cut off my circulation before the class ended. The Cambus was just another place to get kicked or stepped on for having my leg protrude farther than the norm, while riding or waiting for it. I was unable to drive. I learned quickly it was easier to ride in a car without the brace and put it back on after I got out.

My doctor also said that there may be times in the future when the pain would return, and to wear the brace if I felt like it. I hated it, but sometimes I did.

I’m not sure if this started the problem, but within two years I couldn’t stand for more than five minutes without being in agony. Walking was a little better, but I couldn’t keep it up much longer. Everyone was worried about my inability to walk. It is rare for a twenty-two year old, after all, to not be as mobile as one would like to be. I had accepted the pain easily.

Between an acupuncturist and a podiatrist and another doctor in my doctor’s office, I learned it was a muscular imbalance that brought my pain now. The acupuncturist could take away the pain if she stuck me full of needles once a week. It was really peaceful with the music, and my legs felt great when she was done. The podiatrist gave me inserts for my shoes to try to correct some of my posture problems. The second general practitioner gave me exercises, since her son had the same problem.

I stuck with the exercises and the shoe inserts for the next three years. The acupuncturist dismissed me when she realized she couldn’t make a difference without weekly treatments indefinitely. My legs improved to the point I could stand all day at work if I needed to and only feel tired at the end of the day.

This new freedom was amazing. The pain was mostly gone. My boyfriend and I got married, and we had stools through the receiving line for me to rest. It was a good idea, but I didn’t like the necessity. We moved two years later, and I began a yoga class.

This class had several of the same exercises I did daily, with different names. Instead of just working on the legs, it worked every part of my body. I missed the aquaticize classes with my friends, but yoga made up for it. I tried to make new friends in my new town.

Somewhere in the middle of the eight week class, I began a daily practice. I bought a mat and a couple books and started embracing my natural flexibility. I learned so much in that class that I hadn’t been able to put together on my own, though I’d tried several times in the past four years.

The physical changes were with me, since I’d had similar exercises that I was building on. My legs became stronger and more evenly balanced. I noticed my weight stabilize. It changed to something deeper, and changed more than just my physical state of being. I discovered a reservoir of calm and patience that hadn't been there before. Every day I accept the little things that change and continue the journey.

I learned that when I stood in Warrior II and breathed slowly the heat released in my body could cause me to sweat. I rarely sweat and am generally so cold I wear sweaters in the air conditioning during summer. I learned that during relaxation I could – rarely – let my mind rest from its usual endless circling thoughts. I learned that no matter how much I thought I knew about yoga, there would always be more to learn.

My teacher was leaving at the end of the class. I had just found a great motivator to my daily practice, and I was going to lose it if no one took his place.

Any of us in the class could have taken his place. We had similar knowledge. He was no expert, but did the best he could. Most had taken the class before, and some had taken the class for years. I don’t know what their excuses were. My excuse was that I had only just begun to take the class. I did not think the older/more experienced students would accept me, even if I thought to gain enough knowledge to be the teacher.

I read yoga books for the entire summer to be ready for the fall semester as soon as I learned the community college accepted my application. I only applied because the former teacher recommended it to me.

I was so nervous for my first class. I raced through my carefully timed program. I was finished in half the time for the postures, and I was worried about the meditation portion. I was sure they’d be looking for someone else at that point. I was wrong. Whatever fears kept the other students from trying to teach did not keep them from accepting me. They reached out to me and helped me. I think they could tell I was nervous. I had two classes that night, and we took a deep breath (not uncommon during yoga) and I asked which half they’d like to do over, the standing postures or the seated postures. They agreed to the standing postures, and we went through them a bit more slowly. We relaxed, and my stomach churned as I took them through the first exercise.

The second class started directly afterward. I’d never done two and a half hours of yoga at one time. Luckily, the resting period helped me get my second wind for the late class. The first class had been filled with the yoga veterans – a class that had been together for the past two or three years. The later class was filled with the newbies. For many, it was their first class.

Something got easier at that moment. I breathed, I coached, and I led them through the postures at nearly the same rate I’d practiced at home. Once I got to the meditation section, I had done it before and it went smoothly this time!

I went home, feeling as light as when I was the student. All the students returned for the second week, and the third, and many of them returned in subsequent classes I taught. I worked to get certified to make sure I wasn’t missing something big, and I wasn’t.

I’ve been teaching that class for four years now. I am no longer nervous. I have my daily practice to keep the pains away, and the class to keep my motivation. The aches are all but gone. Somewhere along the way, I found happiness, too.