Healthy Competition and Humble Pie

I have a competitive streak in me that won't quit, which is why I have always been surprised by my love for yoga. Yoga is about as non-competitive as a physical activity can be, with all of it's self-acceptance and peaceful inward reflection and all. It's just not possible to be competitive in yoga - at least that's what I thought before last week's class.

So there I was, in downward dog, when suddenly I saw a boy across the room, bending in ways that would make Rodney Yee proud.  We went through a wonderful flow- plank, cobra, child's pose, downward dog, forward fold, lunge.  So far, I'm keeping up.  Gumby (I'm guessing that was his name) is nailing every pose, but so am I.  Tree.  Still keeping up.  Eagle- my favorite.  On one foot, all tangled up, I managed to hold the best Eagle pose of my life.  Beat that, Gumby.  He isn't too bad at Eagle either.  Then our instructor says three terrifying words: "Birds of Paradise." I think they should call a round-table yoga meeting to discuss changing this pose's name to "Vultures of Hades."  It's that bad.  I can't even begin to get into this pose.  I can't manage a full bind- not by a long shot.  I was banking on Gumby having the same handicap, but when I look over at him, there he is, in all-too-perfect form.  He might have smirked.  Probably not, but if he doesn't have a yoga-related flaw, he's got to at least have a personality flaw like arrogance or pride.

Sure, I felt a little defeated as I managed an amateur modification of the pose, and my normally relaxing Savasana was a little less about inner-reflection and more about planning my improvement before next Thursday, but honestly, I should thank him.  I think the only thing that's been missing from my workouts lately has been a little healthy rivalry, and I'd be willing to bet that this competition is all I need to shed these last few pounds of baby weight.

See you next week, Gumbo, and thanks for the motivational push.  You'd better pray that we don't do half-moon.