Hungarian v. American Yoga

I hurt. And I'm not 100% sure, if it's in a good way yet.

Yesterday, I signed up at CorePower Yoga, and I was totally smug as I sauntered in the studio. They ask you how long you have been practicing yoga and how often you work out. From my answer choices, you would totally think that I am a budding yogi and pretty active little yinzer.

I thought the same thing...until I went to two of these yoga classes. First off, this isn't my namaste-spirtual-enya-listenin'-Budapest-hot yoga. Oh hell to the nizo.

This yoga has bangin' tunes and does a really intense core section. With equipment. And an instructor that is...ugh.....kind of a bitch. Sure, they say those silly things like, "Lead with your heart" and "You are loved." But they also say things like, "BE THANKFUL YOU DON'T HAVE EIGHT LEGS FOR ME TO PUNISH!"

It's kind of my scene.

Also, since I am in America: I have noticed that I take yoga like an American man does. I, for one, am pleased to note that I do yoga like an American, specifically an American man. It makes me feel like I bleed red, white, and blue or some shit.

Advantages of American man yoga:
1.) No creepy old guy in European-style underwear.
2.) Mixed gender ratio.
3.) I'm just going to reiterate the no old man in slutty underwear point. It's really kind of a big deal.

I feel like it's normal for an early 20 year old dude to be in the yoga class. Do I feel completely inadequate because the skinny bitches around me kick my while chaturanga-ing it? Maybe just a little.

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Just finished Club de los Muertos (Sookie Stackhouse...en castellano!). Total Books for 2011: 18