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This article appears in the Autumn/Winter issue of NEWMARKET. magazine, for more, click here.
I nearly fell asleep. Typically that is the type of Google Review, that if left on a class, would earn you a call from the business, in either apology or legal-action form. But when it’s a yoga class — it is the highest form of flattery.
Yoga has typically been ego death for me. It’s my equivalent of a mean boyfriend. The last time I went to yoga, I focused more on the fancy leggings of my fellow yogis than my breathing. It was out of pride. The legging hyper-fixation that is, not the yoga-attending. I’d then been trying to heal from my pre-existing yoga trauma, only to fail. My cynicism for yoga is simple — I hate being bad at things. Every single class I’d been to included at least 1x moment of public shaming. Fair, but no instructor had ever given me real tips to improve.
But, exploring The Olympic’s class schedule, I felt weirdly drawn to their Sunday ‘Yin Yoga’. I’d never heard of it before. Wasn’t all yoga the same? Apparently not. The class promised a “restorative style of yoga” to release any emotions stored into the body, for a meditative experience. Listen, I’m a modern woman. I work a stressful 9-5, where often the most efficient way to release stress is to scream in the car. Yeah, I thought, yin yoga sounds like a much healthier coping mechanism.
I strategically showed up exactly one minute before the class started. There was no chance I’d risk the instructor spotting the fake yogi (I didn’t have leggings on) in the room. The vibe surprised me. It was quite literally, chill. The crowd weren’t even eyeing up one another’s experience level through pre-class posture.
As the class fell into its rhythm, the strangest sensation washed over me — relaxation. Full transparency, I’d had a bad day. The Sunday Scaries are notorious for a reason. I desperately needed some grounding (my true-crime podcast did not achieve its usual effect). The class spinal-twisted me right back to earth.
I left feeling like I’d been at a Los Angeles off-grid wellness retreat, but in the most unpretentious way possible. “I feel so calm??” I texted a friend. The instructor was incredible. What feels good in yin yoga looks different for everyone, she’d said. It was the complete opposite of all my past yoga experiences. The absolute highlight was when the instructor told the class, “You don’t need to go at 100%.”
That was what blew my mind. The class was a reminder that exercise is simple. It’s not a bragging point, nor an expression of which Auckland tribe you fit into. It’s just meant to make you feel good.
Exercise classes are too often used to prove our productivity outside of work. The class refreshed this idea in my brain. It felt so good to feel seen for my energy levels. So much so, that The Olympic housed me for another two hours after class. This is where the Sunday Scaries switched to Sunday Solitude. I sat in the steam-room and sauna, preparing for a future of less screaming in cars.
THE OLYMPIC POOL & FITNESS 77 BROADWAY, NEWMARKET
This article appears in the Autumn/Winter issue of NEWMARKET. magazine, for more, click here.
Tags: Fitness
