Chapter 1: The Reluctant Yogi

I hold a similar sentiment towards yoga as I do towards taking my daily iron supplements—it's a necessary, albeit unwelcome, part of my routine.

By Jeff Cann

I find joy in running. The rhythm of my feet on the road or trail allows me to soak in the landscape, concentrate on my breath, and let my thoughts wander freely. Each run brings me a tranquil sense of peace.

I also enjoy mountain biking, though these days I prefer the road after suffering too many spills in the woods last year. The rolling hills around Gettysburg provide a thrilling combination of challenging climbs and exhilarating descents. Cycling leaves me pleasantly exhausted.

Spin class is another favorite; the pulsating music, the sweat dripping from my forehead, the instructor’s energetic calls for drills, and the shared struggle with fellow participants create a unique atmosphere. After class, I feel enveloped in a rewarding haze of accomplishment.

However, yoga is a different story. It can be painful. I recently returned to it after a thirteen-year hiatus. When I first started at the YWCA, I would sneak away from work twice a week to attend a seventy-five-minute class with Susan. Back then, I was fairly proficient—one woman even complimented my skills. Being the only man in the class made me a point of interest, but eventually, the disruption to my workday and my boss's disapproving glances led me to abandon yoga altogether.

Now, my yoga practice feels clumsy. My body has grown stiff and inflexible. Each pose is a struggle. As I grapple with my form, the instructor, Steph, walks around the room offering encouragement. Many participants seem to bask in her approval as she passes them by. When she reaches me, I can almost sense her silent disapproval—her head might be shaking, her eyes rolling. "Relax your shoulders; keep everything aligned," she instructs. I seem to be her only focus for correction.

Speaking of my shoulders, both have seen better days. The left one was surgically repaired after I collided with a minivan while cycling. The right has been dislocated numerous times, with the latest incident being just eight months ago. Consequently, relaxing my shoulders is nearly impossible; they never seem to align properly. I push my arms and shoulders to the brink of discomfort but can only approximate what one might call 'proper' yoga form.

After just two classes in two weeks, I notice an improvement in my back's flexibility, which I haven’t experienced in months. I decided to return to yoga because constant pain had become unbearable. My leg and hip muscles, always tense from running and biking, pull my sacrum out of alignment, leading to debilitating back issues. Not long ago, I woke up in the middle of the night and found myself unable to stand due to the pain radiating through my back, leaving me to crawl to the bathroom in desperation.

In my role as the finance director for the county's library system, I support the Friends of the Library fundraising group. We gather thousands of donated books annually, sorting and packaging them for a significant sale every July. Most of the team are retirees; at sixty years old, I am the youngest member. While I may appear fit due to my running and biking habits, lifting a box of books causes my back to give out. During setup for the book sale, I often choose to let a seventy-one-year-old woman lift the box instead.

So, while I don’t particularly enjoy yoga, I’m committed to it. Not every exercise can match the joy of running. At this moment, my attitude towards yoga feels akin to the reluctance I feel when taking my iron pills—I know it’s beneficial, even if it’s uncomfortable. I’ve neglected to address the tightness in my legs, back, and shoulders for far too long. If I can regain my flexibility, perhaps I will come to appreciate yoga as well.

The first video, Gentle Self-Love Yoga: Soothe Burnout and Cultivate Kindness, offers a calming approach to yoga that emphasizes self-compassion and relaxation, perfect for those struggling with their practice.

Chapter 2: Embracing the Challenge

The second video, A Love Note To My Body | Wk4 of Back In My Body | Trauma Informed Yoga, focuses on creating a nurturing relationship with one's body, encouraging viewers to acknowledge their experiences through mindful movement.

About Jeff Cann

Jeff Cann resides in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, where he writes and works. His essays and stories cover themes of mental health, running, and culture. His books, Fragments: a Memoir and Bad Ass — My Quest to Become a Back Woods Trail Runner (and other obsessive goals) are available on Amazon. He is married and a father of two, with more essays and stories found at www.jefftcann.com.