Tonight I did something I have never done before
I took a yoga class.
It was level 1.
It was vinyasa flow.
Most of the students had some experience, some a fair amount.
Because I was concerned about cramps, I had drunk a lot of water - which meant I was sweating all over myself and my mat.
Turns out that was the only real problem.
Oh, I had to stop a couple of times. I decided as a newbie I was not going to do the full back bends. A few times I struggled a bit with my breath.
I am 67. I am somewhat over weight (about 12-15 pounds), and more than a little out of shape.
I was encouraged by two women whose judgment I trust, both of whom have been involved with yoga. One was Leaves on the Current, who still cannot return to yoga until her back is strengthened through physical therapy. The other was S_, the woman who serve as her care - giver (really, her companion) during the school days after she returned from her stem cell transplant. S_ is serious about yoga, is training to teach others. I went to the studio where she takes classes.
I survived. Even more than that, despite having to stop a couple of times, I thrived, I felt my body, and I felt positive at the endof the 75 minutes of class.
Something new.
A new phase.
Part of an attempt to become healthier.
So that I can have another 28 years of married bliss with Leaves on the Current.
At which time I will be 95, and hopefully still enjoying life.
Peace.