Having completed my Himalayan run, i’ve started stepping down my training a little for the shorter days of the english winter. So it would seem i finally have the time to start going to yoga again. It would be getting on for 2 years since i last went to a yoga class and while part of me couldn’t wait to go again, another part of me knew it was going to hurt after so much neglect.
I’m very fortunate to be able to do a yoga class at work, in what must be one of the lost beautiful locations in the city, on the equivalent to the 11th floor overlooking the river and the reflections of the rising sun. I’m also incredibly lucky to have a teacher like Gill who is also a runner and understands only too well how tight certain muscles might be.
The hour and a half passed quite quickly and i was pleasantly surprised at how quickly it all came back to me, and at how little it hurt. Gill assured me that while i couldn’t bend as far as i could when i last attended her class, that i was still moving quite beautifully.
I’d forgotten how relaxing a human voice can be when you are sitting, eyes closed listening to nothing but that voice, or how good it could feel to simply slow down for a while and feel your heart beating.
By the end of the session i was completely relaxed and could quite happily have stayed on the wooden floor for another hour. I couldn’t help but think, what better way is there to start the day than stretching, breathing, and listening to your body.