200 Hours Yoga Teacher Training, first two hours.
It’s 7 and white through the window. Mahi is watching us settle in in silence, on the floor with folded legs and a very straight back – his legs are not just crossed, they’re melted together. He sings a mantra, and we clumsily join him for the OMs. “Bow your head down in holy gratitude.” The class begins. Today we learn to stand.
“Press on the outside of your foot, the round of the big toe, press on the heels. Press the heels! Raise your knee-caps, rotate your inner thighs, stand straight up – more up, more up! Tilt your pelvic bone forward. It’s more like this way!”
Standing still in this Indian man’s class might be the hardest work-out of my life. We use the standing technique to deepen each posture. Focus on your alignment, as much weight on each foot, straight back, and the round of the big toe! Stay, stay more. Breathe deeply. My thighs are shaking, I am sweating like a pig. It turns out that even though my legs like to hike in the Malaysian Highlands, they do not like to stay in Warrior Postures – no, please, stop. Breathe. Unsure my muscles can handle much more of this, I can’t help but glance at the digital clock on the floor – it’s been twelve minutes. Only 48 minutes and 199 hours to go.
The Mahi Magic show lays down its ground rules. He quickly decides that Arthur, “the only brave man in the course – because he’s the only man, hahaha!” will be his guinea pig, and that Sarah (a dancer) and Nathalie will be his flexibility demonstrators. He on the other hand will be the main attraction: “Look at me, I’m a seventy-two year-old man, and I can do it!” “No wrinkles on my stomach, because I stand like this!” There’s triumph in his smile every time he says “this!” with a high-pitched voice.
In two hours, he makes me realize how very little I know about alignment and feeling strong in your foundations. And that learning a lot hurts your butt.
Finding Love at Home and Across the World 