Nothing lasts forever, and last night my beloved yoga/resistance training classes came to an end. After 15 months of just having to turn up at our little make-shift studio two or three times a week and have an incredible workout with a wonderful group of women...it's time to move on.
We've sort of suspected this was coming, so I've used the past few months to research other classes. The problem is that a physically challenging workout is hard work and not something I enjoy unless the teacher is gifted and the other participants are full of good energy. (For those of you who are contra dancers, it's just like dances: A dynamic caller and a spirited group of dancers will make all the difference.)
I've gotten discouraged when I've encountered instructors who were sanctimonious, touchy-feely, or condescending. And I've felt like I was wasting precious time and money when the workout wasn't sufficiently varied or challenging. And it's been difficult but necessary for me to accept that some of the African dance classes I find so energizing and inspiring are too dangerous for someone my age (lots of leaping, running, jumping, and twisting).
Fortunately, I've found two promising programs. One is a belly dance studio. They kicked off a new series of classes this evening, with a delightful teacher and a wonderful class of women (and one man)! The other program, yoga and aerobics with live African drumming, is, unfortunately, up on Capitol Hill. That's certainly not my favorite place to drive to during the tail end of rush hour. But the class, led by an extremely dynamic exercise physiologist and dancer, is worth it.
Oddly, the components of the yoga program I haven't figured out how to replace are the yoga and weight training. However, after 15 months I know the routines well enough that I can do one of them at home for 90 minutes, once a week. If that doesn't work, it may be time to sign up for the classes at the local Vinyasa yoga studio...
Damn it, I just want my old yoga classes back.
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