I flew
tot he other end oft he world to rip in a Zumba Class (Fitness Workout with
latin music) one of my plantar ligaments.
As a
yogini I had to jump around barefoot, while everyone else was wearing danicing
shoes. Now I’m sure they do so for a certain reason. I guess my toes were glued
to the floor when my heal was twisting. Arrgh! This happend last friday.
On the
weekend I was mainly asleep, I was recovering and had sweet dreams while I was
hiding under my blanket from all the craziness of the last last days/ weeks/
month.
I was
working with my core, my center, my Hara. Did all these mean variations of sit
ups my Yogateacher gave me on the way. I practiced backbends, was breathing
inbetween my ribs to get these tiny muscles smooth and to create room around my
heart. Gently Yoga, I enjoyed, my first weekend off in Africa.
Yesterday
I started my trip to Down Town Capetown. I’m not big in sightseeing, but right
infront of my friends house the hop on hop off bus stopped, so I took a ride
with all the other tourists and hopped off in the center of CPT, went to a
tourist office, asking for, guess what, no, not table mountain, not robben
island, a yoga studio.....walking distance, the girl tells me, YESSSS! I could
have googled informations on that, but I love it how the girls in tourist
offices explain directions from A to B and even hand out a citymap, so I just
can’t missout.
I’ll go
for Yogalife. Sounds good. And I get there 3mins before a Bikram class starts.
Too stressy I think, and I sign in for a Forrest Yoga class 15min later.
Forrest Yoga is new to me. Better anyway, I think, why would I go to a hot yoga
class in Africa, in summer??
I like
the studio. It’s stylish, open, bright, the yoginis working here are super
friendly und willing to help. My class will take place on the first floor. I
enter the shala, and what I get to see are some ladies doing theit warm up
stretches. Why? I wonder because what I clearly hear behind a cool smooth
version of the SO HAM mantra ist he HEATER!?!?
„Forrest
Yoga, right? No Bikram?“ I ask, keeping the conversation small. One yogini
nodding. I lay down.
We start
the class with Nadi Sodhana, alternate nostril breathing, I sweat already.
Nice. I like this teacher, she seems pure, no flourishing, straight, clear
insructions, her hair tamed in a ponytail. Like this is her teaching, she puts
us into asanas walks around and does accurat adjusments. There is about 20
peeps n the room, so I suffer quite awhile in some positions. Living means
suffering. And on this day I suffer because oft yesterdays visit at a winefarm,
incl. winetasting. Hey, I’m in southafrica, don’t blame me.
90min later, the lesson is finished. I sink back. Thank you. Savasana.
Namaste.
Right now I'm sitting in a cafe. All relaxed. My mac on my lap like they had the newspapers in the early days, having breakfast, waiting for the 12.30 class at Yogalife.
Bikram, it's raining today.
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