This is our third time visiting Estes Park for the annual Yoga Journal Conference. Everything about it is different this time. Less Elk sightings so far. Cold as @#$%^&*. Best vacation rental house ever. Our conference is at 8,000 ft. Just a 10 minute drive away, our house is at somewhere between 9 and 10,000 ft., and we have a panoramic picture window, so the view is spectaculicious. We have friends with us who join us in our love of yoga and good wine. Amy is taking to "playing with the Colorado kids", aka., the YMCA child care center like no tomorrow. She didn't want to leave today when we quit yoga early to love on her.
In an analogy to skiing, today was a bad snow day! We were captive in a 3 hour session that was ridiculously serious and with way too much talking. All around us were classes involving vigorous activity, while we were listening to non-resonating messages and watching our proud yoga instructor shirt-lessly demonstrate many poses which emphasized his zero-body-fat stature. I actually got an uncontrollable case of the giggles, and my stoic husband stood facial-expressionless and would not get eye contact with me. This tickled my funny bone more. I actually had to walk out of the room when I began to snort and Don still pretended he didn't know me. Oh well.
They say if you land in a class you don't like, it is probably what you need. I guess I needed to be among 50 dead-serious people and wet my pants today!
