A half hour earlier the text from Rick read. “Looks like we’re rained out.” But then the sun came out and he texted back. At this point it would be pushing it unless one of us won two out of two. I hesitated and texted back, “I have yoga at six.” We went for it.
This year Rick has arranged it so the day’s loser provides a beer for the next match. We are even this month but I lost last time so I poured. I won but it took three games. Peggi was already finished eating and I wolfed mine down. Pasta, Peggi’s homemade sauce and of the organic sausage we get at the co-op. I was prepared for a restless class.
It started to drizzle as we drove to Brighton and then the sun came out. A giant rainbow stretched across the expressway. It was warm in the small gym so the doors were propped open. There was a lot of activity on the athletic fields outside. I wanted to be out there.
Peggi and I were a few minutes late and Jeffery had the class rolling tennis balls under their feet. He talks through class helping you focus on the the pose but sometimes he digresses. We had just rolled out our mats and he was talking about a product called Arnica, something dancers put on sore muscles. Then he told us he was helping a friend fix some plumbing and he had a pipe wrench in his hand when the friend whacked the wrench with a hammer and hit his thumb. He told us he talked to his thumb, massaged it and because of his yoga practice it never turned blue.
It was a fairly rigorous class. Lots of balancing poses and tree into warrior three. “Tree into 3.” Near the end of class he gave each of us a sunflower seed. We out it in our hands, studied it, closed our eyes, felt it, put it in our mouth, let it sit on our tongue and then cracked it with our teeth before slowly digesting it. The meditation was interrupted by a booming sound system outside. I sounded like a pop song was run through every one of Phil Marshall’s effects boxes at the same time.