Forgot my toothbrush, my floss, and my bathrobe. Not too bad. Except that tonight after a mind-blowing and body-blowing Yoganand workout, I found myself staggering around Wawa looking for a toothbrush.
Those of you familiar with Wawa know that toiletries aren’t really their big sellers. I found a cheapo toothbrush, complete with a little paste, buried under the Trojans and next to the Advil. I also bought pudding because I really needed it.
I entered class all bubble bathed and blown dry, and even got there early enough to chat with Kim, and with the Y-Man himself.
After the howdy-dos, he led us in a tricked out version of his famous “Workout.”
You know how some people make chili? How they start with a basic recipe, but then, just for fun, throw in a little cocoa powder, some honey, a shake of tabasco and maybe some cigar ashes?
Yeah, it was sorta like that.
The ends of my pretty, freshly shampooed hair dripped. Drips of sweat also fell off the end of my nose, and splattered on my mat. My top was drenched and sticking to me like a bimbo in a wet tee-shirt contest and I had to keep pulling it off my skin.
Then, during savasana, my hair dried into stiff clumps, and when I got up I looked like a person who had just spent the night in a cardboard box over a subway grate.
I looked around and noticed that Iwas the only one who looked liked a bedraggled puppy. Everyone else looked exactly the way they did when they started the practice.
There are, apparently, some deep hair secrets of yoga I still do not know.
But seriously, I am hangin’ in. I’m keeping up. I’m not embarrassing myself. It’s not even been a full day, though. Tomorrow it begins in earnest.
I need to get to bed.
I had Kim take this of me, so you can see for yourself.