My kind of yoga

Some of you may remember that my first (and until yesterday, last) experience with yoga was not the relaxing, restful encounter I'd hoped for. Yesterday, at the invitation of a friend, I took a restorative yoga class.

The room was dark and cool. The requisite Eastern music was playing. My friend Brenda helped me get a mat and the three dense pillows I would need for the class. I was all set.

Except that I didn't know I had to pay for the class at the front desk, which was all the way on the other side of the building. The class was getting ready to start, so I had to high-tail it down three corridors. I handed the attendant my $5 and she looked at me like I was nuts. The class was $12.

During the trek back to the yoga studio, I was muttering to myself that this class had better be worth it. I arrived back in the room feeling a little defensive and irritated. But I took my place on my mat and tried to allow my deep inhale and exhale push those feelings out of my mind.

Right away, I could tell this class would be different. First of all, each pose is held for 7 to 10 minutes, so that eliminated the anxiety I had in the other class about just figuring out a pose when the instructor moved on to something else. Because the poses were so lengthy, that meant that instructor wasn't chattering through the whole thing.

All the poses happened on the mat. The intention of the class is to encourage stillness, release muscle tension and counteract those bad-for-my-bod postures I spend much of the day in. None of the poses were confusing or hard to do. The most difficult part of the class was trying to keep my mind empty of thoughts about what I had to do later in the day and whether or not my belly was hanging out from under my t-shirt. I'm pretty sure I might have dozed for a minute or two here and there.

Truthfully, I can't tell you how long the class was. I think 60 minutes, but it felt longer. At the end of the class, I was a believer. I don't think I've been that relaxed since I was under the influence of nitrous oxide in the root canal that wasn't.

As I left the studio, I recognized what I was feeling. It's the way I feel after I've gotten a massage. Except, there was none of that deep muscle soreness. And there was no stranger putting her hands all over me. But the results were the same -- I felt taller, more fluid and amazingly rested.

Restorative yoga has restored my faith in yoga.

My next business venture

So I had my root canal today and I got an inspiration for my next business venture.

I was sitting in the chair, covered with a blanket, looking out the window,

View from a root canal

when the hygienist asked if I wanted nitrous oxide. I said "Yep. I want anything that will take my mind away from what's actually happening inside my mouth."

So she brought this Apollo 11 looking nose mask out, put it on me and said that it would work quicker if I uncrossed my ankles (a nervous, at the dentist pose I tend to strike when I know sharp metal objects are pointed at my teeth and gums). Within just a few minutes, I was feeling mighty fine. I didn't care what was going on in my mouth or anywhere else.

After what felt like 15 minutes (but was really 2 hours) -- I know I slept during a few of those because I woke myself up with my own snore, the doc said "we're done." The hygienist took away my happy mask and I soon returned to my usual conscious state.

So I got to thinking, I bet people would pay big bucks to go to a nitrous oxide spa. A comfy recliner, a warm blanket, and some NO2. Nirvana to anyone who is just looking to chillax for a bit, right? We could even sell designer nitrous masks -- tie dye, leopard print, purple glitter, camoflague for the manly men. Set the timer -- 30 minutes, 60 minutes or the deluxe 90 minute special. And the beauty of it is that once the masks come off, the nitrous wears off quickly, so no "breathing and driving" liability.

I think it's a winner of an idea. I just wish they would have let me keep the nitrous mask on this morning while I was writing the check for the $537 bill. Maybe it wouldn't have hurt so much.