I went to my first full-fledged yoga class last Friday. Oh sure…I bought a pregnancy video tape that I swayed and om’d randomly to during both pregnancies and there was that class I took years ago at the employee wellness center but this class was FOR REAL people. There were mats! There were straps! There were blocks! There were blankets! My brother has been practicing yoga for quite some time and invited me to a class taught by a friend at a hip local studio (rumor has it that a certain Australian actress who has recently moved to Nashvegas has taken classes there). Friday is my day off, I couldn’t think of any excuse to not go and as I have been pretty slack on exercising lately I took the yoga plunge. I really enjoyed the class although I was a little nervous about some of the poses and was relieved that there were only six of us present, including the teacher. The triangle pose, for example? Totally kicked my molded to an office chair four days a week booty. Concentrating on balancing my clumsy self without falling took most of my mental energy and for more than an hour I found myself not thinking about deadlines, bills, diapers, or any other million routine things I obsess about. Although there were a few times I thought I might dislocate my left knee and my ab muscles started to spasm in shock from actual use, I walked out of the class without limping! What I’m most proud of, however, was my ability to meditate and completely tune out the guy in the corner whose breathing reminded me of a cow in heat. Now that took concentration.