Too Late

There are many moral dilemmas in our lives. The lesser of them being: you're late to a yoga class, it's really crowded and there are no more mats left. The women stationed near the door make it very clear they are not moving. Human decency would dictate that you close the door and head home.

Sorry, this photo has nothing to do with what you are reading...

But I always turn into a bit of an ugly tourist when I'm on vacation with the kids. Here on a tiny island off Maui in Hawai'i with only a short break from family-togetherness I know if I don't capture this slice of Namaste I'll become a whiny siren on the rocks of mean muthaness. I hang around at the door until the instructor motions me over and I make my way to the front stepping over a number of prostrate bodies in various states of repair and fitness.  The instructor insists on giving me his mat.

Was I imagining it...a few of our class seemed to be giving me filthy looks for taking the poor instructor's mat? The instructor is a very sweet, serene and kind of smokin' Yogi sporting a flavour-savour goatee and mini hibiscus behind his ear. Of course I feel terribly guilty. But Yogi has fresh young knees, which I'm sure can handle bobbling around on the hardwood floors.... maybe this sacrifice will propel him to an even higher state of being. See, I could be doing him a favour.

To my left side is a rather hirsute, rotund gentleman wearing a t-shirt and shorts, both of which are terribly short and very baggy. I know what this means. I am afraid, very afraid. Soon we were on our knees doing a twisting arm raise. And around! The Belly! Yes, the gentlemans' belly is exposed in quite some rawness, a picture of which is still vivid in my mind even now. Then for the leg raises. Oh no, no please! The Ba..s! Then the arm and leg raises together! Arrgh! The Belly!!! Arrgh!!! The Baaa....!!!

I left sweating and shaken and a few others smiled their yogic smile, justice had been done.

The next morning I got up extra early to make the spin class but got the time wrong. The class had started and there were no bikes left. The instructor insisted I take her bike. This meant she had to stand at the front of the class kind of pretend-cycling with her legs and making pretend gear-changing motions with her hands.

Carb-loading at the porridge stand before Spin

I'm sure noone was terribly happy with this. To show the rest of the spinners that I was not a complete a..hole I smiled at everyone as if to say: "Look I really need this, you didn't give up proper instruction in vain. I'm trying really hard."

Feverishly I was always the first to the "top of the mountain" constantly turning up resistance until I thought I would expire. My legs were spinning, his stomach was churning and so was my head and I felt kind of ill. Keep going, keep going I said to myself smiling to the rest of the class: See how hard I'm trying - it was all worth it.

Was I imagining it ...but did everyone avoid my gaze as I left the class?

Sitting down that night for dinner, we noticed an older couple heading for the table next to us, dressed in their bathrobes and slippers. It must have been an optical illusion but it seemed they were not wearing any clothes underneath.  Harley, 14 said: "Please don't let those robes fall open, I'm still so young, I've got my whole life ahead of me."

Ooops, too late.