I used to view yoga as some sort of namby-pamby new age nonsense until a few years ago, when I joined the gym downstairs from my office. A little less than a year ago, I decided that trying a class wouldn't hurt. Besides, I wanted to get the most out of my membership dues (55 dollars a month! I don't understand how so many people pay, but don't go. It's like throwing money down the toilet.). I was pleasantly surprised to emerge from that first class refreshed, relaxed, rejuvenated and dare I say it, centered. I could see why people were addicted. I began taking that same Iyengar class weekly, and pretty soon, added on an Ashtanga class. I'd mastered headstand, binding, gotten my head to the floor in the ghost pose, started backbends, and even done a few handstands, so I was fairly confident in my abilities. Little did I know. A couple of weeks ago, I got a pass for a week's membership at the swanky new gym, the Sports Club LA, across the street. Although I had no intention of joining (dues are 100 freaking dollars a month, plus an initiation fee of $350!!!), I had every intention of taking advantage of the free pass. After all, I wanted to try their classes, and use their top-of-the-line brand-new equipment (individual cable tv monitors at every cardio machine!). I was a little intimidated by the "Intermediate" Iyengar class, but wasn't as hard as I'd pictured it to be, and it actually corrected some of my poses. So with renewed confidence, I took the lunchtime "yoga flow" class, figuring it was a basic class. It started off normally enough, you know, with sun salutations, but we were holding the positions longer than I was accustomed to. "Wow, you guys are flexible today. Let's see what you can do." Then, he told is to take a deep breath, and deepen the position for even longer. By the end of the first vinyasa cycle, my muscles were quivering, and my face was bright red. I knew I was in trouble, when in the second round of sun salutations, he told us to go from chair, to crane, a position which I have yet to hold for longer than a tenth of a second. At this point, I was dripping sweat - not those dainty beads of perspiration at the hairline, but big, fat drops that rolled down my face and neck, and fell to my mat with a huge plop. My limbs were too slippery to support the position and needless to say, there were plenty of thuds, thumps, grunts and oofs coming from my mat. The instructor was droning on, telling us to - you guessed it - take a deep breath, and deepen the position. Surely I'm not the only one, I thought, as I retreated into child's pose. I snuck a peek, and was dismayed to discover that indeed I was. Everyone else was in position, levitating their bodies above their elbows as though they were weightless. I entertained the notion of slinking out right then and there, but because I had chosen a spot front and center, there was no way I could leave without disrupting the rest of the students. Besides, I would've have felt really stupid if I had left the class only twenty minutes into it. So I stayed and with many more grunts, oofs and sweat, (but no more crane!) finished the class. It was a humbling experience, but necessary for my ego. I have a new goal - mastering crane. And now, I'm off to my yoga class!