Cirque De Sol Klutz

Last Friday my husband and I went on a very Metropolitan-style date. We went to a couple's Yoga class and then to a Sushi Restaurant with another very "Metro" type couple.
Couple's Yoga was one of the only times we have ever tried Yoga. It is not as though we don't exercise, we are very physically active. We run; we love the speed and competition of out- running each other, although my husband always out-runs me, he is almost a full foot taller than me, which means his legs are at least two feet longer than any part of my body. We lift-weights; we like to boast to each other about how many reps or how much weight we added to that particular workout, my husband also out-lifts me. But we don't do Yoga or any other shape-shifting exercise. Up until a couple of years ago, if I heard the phrase"Downward-facing dog" or "Sun Pose", I would have looked around for an actual dog staring down at something and then perhaps looked out a window to see if the sun was doing something unusual.
To us, Yoga and Pilate's were in the same grouping as Vegetarian and Vegan or any other concept, we thought needed subtitles of explanation.
We have since been enlightened.
Which brings us to my first couple's Yoga date night.
The room we were to exercise in was warm and inviting. In fact, several times I leaned over to my other half and whispered, "How much do you think it will cost to turn our bedroom into a Yoga room?"
He replied, "Too much."
The instructor was a small woman who could bend herself in half. Repeatedly, usually after I asked for a guesstimate of how much my husband really thought the bedroom makeover would cost, and which child we could sell to cover expenses, I would whisper, " I wish I could bend in half" and Brian would respond sheepishly, "I wish you could, too."
By the way, I feel like I should explain that I would never actually sell either one of my children. I am always, always kidding, unless I have had a stressful week and the children have systematically frayed, squashed and pulled apart my every last nerve, in which a relaxing, Yoga room makeover could relieve this stress...but back to the date.
Yoga was being taught by Gumby and she had a Gumby partner. The pair were exactly alike, the same flexibility, the same height, the same hair color, the same body type and were the same gender. Women.
The two were masters of Shape-shifting. With any pose, they were able to replicate it. I was awed and inspired.
But no matter how beautiful the exercised looked done by the Gumbies, mine and my husband's translation was terrible.
The class was instructed to stand back to back and lace fingers together with their mate and do a certain stretch resembling the beginning of a cart wheel. Legs spread out, arms extended full to the sides, fingers entwined.
Brian's arms were thrown out to his sides. As were mine.
Our backs were lined up the best we could manage, never cheek-to-cheek, more like cheek-to-mid-back.
I couldn't reach his fingers, so I grabbed his forearms. As we stretched to one side, Brian yelped. I had unwittingly scalped his arms while intensely trying to force my body into position. I adjusted and grasped his elbows instead. It was a lot less painful for him, but unfortunately a lot less beautiful and stream lined.
Pose after pose, we stumbled over each other. He would yelp, I would yelp.
There was a pose where each of us outstretched our hands in front, facing each other. We were instructed to hold hands and bend deep, to use the pull of each other's weight to equalize our balance and rest merely inches from the floor mat.
Did I mention Brian out weighs me by almost 60 lbs?
Brian was in a compromising position, trying to use my weight to balance himself out, holding my hands, when he fell backwards, I, of course fell forwards. Thank goodness we were using the ultra thin Yoga mats, and I have a slight over-bite! We can't afford a Rhinoplasty...
We tried and we tried. Pose after pose.
After a while, we began giggling, at first out of embarrassment of our inability, and then because Gumby and Gumby continued demonstrating gravity defying acts and expected us to follow suite.
Towards the end of the hour and a half session the two instructors showed the class of far better Yoga-istas (I know this isn't a word, I don't know what else to call professional Yoga attendees) performed the most amazing act.
The assistant G (assistant Gumby) leaned over and did the "down-ward facing dog" pose, which is essentially placing your hands out on the mat, slightly wider than the width of your hips, and then having your legs mirror it behind you. I can almost do this without bending my knees, which is the goal, by the way.
Then the Head G, did a type of a hand stand and landed her legs on top of the back of her partner.
I was stunned.
Brian was frightened.
The class began trying it. Many of them succeeded, seamlessly.
How hard could it be?
Brian did the "down-ward dog" first.
Luckily for me, he can't straighten his knees, so when I did my clumsy hand stand, I didn't have as far to fall back.
Brian grunted as my legs went flying back and struck him in the kidneys, I was proud we kind-of resembled what the instructors and the rest of the class were doing.
Next it was my turn to "down-ward dog".
To tell the truth, I was afraid.
Brian is stronger than me, so he could probably hold a hand stand longer then I can. I was concern with which the velocity and impact of his fall would make on my back.
I was right. It hurt like Hell.
My sweet husband is perfect in almost every way. Emotionally, and Physically.
But he has one flaw. His toes are like long spindly fingers and when his toenails aren't clipped, they become talons.
Picture the impact of free-falling claws weighing 180+ lbs puncturing your back as you are suspended above a thin blue mat, outstretched on all fours with no way of protecting yourself.
Ouch!
Like I said. It hurt like Hell!
The next trapeze act involved doing a hand stand over your partner's hunched back, landing on their back, your legs on either side of their head and then pulling yourself to a sitting position still on your partner,s back and then landing standing up in front of your partner.
You have read correctly. It was how I described.
Brian was game.
My body shivered with fear.
We tried it, me half-heartily. I was still wounded from the old-toenail-puncture-to-my-back pose. I could more then imagine holding Brian up on my back while his legs are giving me a half-nelson.
We gave it a try, grunting and falling and whining and falling.
We didn't ever succeed in this pose. And I have to say, I am fine with that.
Astonishing, Sushi wasn't the new thing we tried that night. The exercise was.
Over all, I enjoyed trying something new. And we will try another Yoga class in the near future, but perhaps, not a couple's one.
For now, I like the non-contact sport of running and weights.