Last night I went to yoga.

It's weird because I was really trying to get into the yoga mindset, or at least what I imagine it to be, which is some sort of crazy mind over matter thing where you're balancing on your big toe and holding your left foot above your ear while breathing slowly and thinking about relaxing, serene vistas. I kind of suck at that. I mean, I'm actually quite good at the beginning now, which I didn't think I would be. My brain is very active, and I don't mean that in the sense of my intelligence. My brain is perpetually occupied with extremely trivial things. Mostly they revolve around being self conscious, my fat, hypothetical karaoke performances and food I shouldn't eat. Thrillingly intellectual.

So I succeed for the beginning part of yoga in turning my brain off. I tend to concentrate on colors, because I like colors. Who doesn't? My thoughts tend to manifest in both words and images, so colors are a fairly easy thing to focus on. Strangely enough it seems to be a combination of purple and green. Specifically, I imagine inhaling as a lavender/purple mist with flecks of gold whirling around me. Exhaling is the same idea, but a darker seafoam green with silver shimmer. In my mind it's rather like color bath powder or snow, only without the cold frozen water or harsh chemicals. Rather, the mist of the colors is like cushy pillows. It's really quite nice. Occasionally I toss some sky blue mist in there but otherwise good system.

Unfortunately this usually lasts for about the first five minutes of class. After that it's a struggle with poses that make me feel like the fattest girl in the room (upon objective judgment, I think I was actually the fattest girl in the room last night. There was only one other contender and we were close. Honestly, I really wish there was a morbidly obese person in every room I was in. Being the fattest person in a room or even possibly being the fattest person in a room really makes me anxious. If there's someone that's clearly bigger than me, my brain is relieved, since it thinks all the hateful people will automatically start judging that person, and perhaps I'll be swept under the rug. In the case that there is such a person, I don't usually judge them harshly, though. I'm actually kind of thankful for their presence. Takes the heat off me. ). Exercise is not pleasant. I'm covered in sweat and I feel like there's all sorts of bugles and odors about my person that may range from embarassing to out and out disgusting. Never am I more aware of my physical failings. The weird thing is, though, when I can shut that awareness off a bit, I really quite enjoy it. Time goes quickly, I end up feeling like I got a good workout, there's music, and frankly everyone is probably too busy contorting to pay attention to my myriad flaws. So anyway, even though the whole serenity thing doesn't really last, I like it. It's good.

Three paragraphs later, I have concluded, yoga is good. Even though I suck at it and may be the fattest girl in the room.