Yoga Toes

When I made the decision to move to Lubbock, I started to envision my new life with a series of Google searches: “Lubbock vegetarian”, “Lubbock Episcopalian”, “Lubbock aviation”, “Lubbock cinema”, "Lubbock dog therapy" and “Lubbock yoga”.

The yoga search brought me to an institution called, of all things, Lubbock Yoga. The first thing I noticed is what a bargain it is – a flat rate for unlimited classes, and if you come three times a week and get your “frequent poser” card stamped, you get a discount. There are several teachers there, and they are all straight from central casting:

First, there’s the self-described “Yoga Nazi” who jokes (often) that “Yoga is about pleasing your teacher!” She teaches the more intense classes, with the ten-minute poses and the improbable balancing positions. I was chatting with a classmate who said “I’ve noticed you at a lot of her classes – you are brave!” She has a keen interest in the Sanskrit etymology of yoga terminology, and is happy to tell you all about it. After a month, she has started smiling at me when I come into the studio. Perhaps I am pleasing my teacher.

Second, there’s Bed Head. She’s an excellent instructor who amazes me with her knowledge of physiology, but she always looks and speaks like someone who just woke up. At first I attributed her perpetual bed head to the early morning class time, but then I discovered that she’s exactly the same at 5pm. One day she mentioned that she had just come from getting her hair cut. And yet, she still looked like she had been sleeping in a strange position all day. Come to think of it, her classes are extremely relaxing, to the point that you have to scrape yourself off the floor at the end, so maybe she’s just trying to look the part.

Then there’s the World’s Most Encouraging Person, who is an endless fount of compliments. For example, I learned from her that I have great yoga toes. My teaching schedule this summer interferes with her class, but I hope I can go back during the fall so I can hear more about how awesome I am.

Finally, there’s the professor of Environmental Toxicology who teaches the class that is heavy on breathing exercises and meditation. In lieu of a yoga mat, she uses a sheepskin. She has crocheted caps to match all her yoga outfits, and she refers to her baby daughter as her “little yogini”. I have come to realize that all the students in her class are university professors. When I combine this demographic analysis with the persona of the teacher, I conclude that this style of yoga is obviously for people who have chosen a life path that cultivates eccentricities. Works for me.