At YogaQuest, we started "season two," embarking on an entirely new adventure with the group. We had a decent turnout for that, although several of our regulars were not in attendance. Despite the smaller group, we had a fantastic time. The storytelling was top notch, and the creative, clever ways our YoGeekie (aka yoga instructor) translated yoga poses into the story was delightful and lighthearted.
I don't believe I've ever laughed quite so much at any of the previous YogaQuest evenings -- partly, I think this is due to the nature of the story and the particular geek fandom it indulged, and partly, I think that may be due to the increasing familiarity and comfort of the group as a whole. Last week, we completed the first eight-week session, and now we've begun this new session. Perhaps it took us this long to truly relax and trust one another, and to begin to forge deeper ties.
After YogaQuest, some of us ended up standing around in the parking lot, talking for a couple of hours. It was great. We talked about a lot of general "getting to know you" things, but we also had a very thought-provoking, honest discussion of body image and lingering gym-class demons from the distant past. I appreciated that we could "go there" together.
One of the stories I told the others was one from the year I first gained a lot of weight, when I was 14, and had injured my back. I was pulled from most gym class activities, so I ended up mostly sitting on the sidelines, and over the course of almost a year, I put on about a hundred pounds. We were all forced to step on a scale in front of the class, and stand before the rest of the class to have the gym teacher use calipers on our fat, to determine our body fat percentage. It was deeply shaming, and it was only made worse by the ignorance and blatant sneering of the gym teacher, who loudly declared that the calipers indicated I was "100% fat." With my face flushed with mortification, I sought refuge in the only thing I had at my disposal: questioning the man's intelligence and competence. I told him I must be a medical marvel, to be standing before him and the entire class, somehow upright, considering my entire composition was fat. No bones, no muscles, no organs... not even skin. Just fat. That's it. He said, "The calipers don't lie." I responded that it wasn't a matter of whether they were lying or not, it was a matter of whether he had the competence to accurately use and interpret them, and called him a fool (I, uh, may have used some slightly stronger language...). On my way to the principal's office, I made a tear-filled, angry, humiliated phone call to my mother, who did what any mother would -- she called the principal and went on a verbal rampage. (Ah, Mom, how I loved seeing you unleash your righteous wrath on my behalf...)
Even though I'd been a runner prior to my injury, I'd never been great at some of the physical fitness tests they'd thrown at us in gym, and I was not very coordinated. I could run fast (over short distances, anyway -- yes, just like Gimli. Stop that!). I could throw a punch pretty well, too (don't ask...). But things like the flexed arm hang were darn near impossible for me, and I never really liked most of the sports they taught us. So, gym class had never really been my favorite thing anyway, but from that point on, it was sheer misery for me, and I felt keenly self-conscious and condemned every time I went to class.
With all that in mind, it has been tremendously healing for me to get involved with these Geek Physique activities. I'm a pretty outgoing person, not really shy at all, except when it comes to this. It took a lot for me to choose to do physical activities in a group setting. I've resisted any and all public activities that involved exercise for decades. I had to work up the determination to give these things a try. And I am so glad I did. I'm letting go of the past, after all this time, thanks to the amazing people who have also chosen to come out and try silly things like a yoga roleplaying game, and thanks to the delightfully geeky (and truly encouraging) yoga instructors who developed and implemented this idea.
Sing all ye joyful, now sing all together!
The wind's in the tree-top, the wind's in the heather;
The stars are in blossom, the moon is in flower,
And bright are the windows of Night in her tower.
Dance all ye joyful, now dance all together!
Soft is the grass, and let foot be like feather!
The river is silver, the shadows are fleeting;
Merry is May-time, and merry our meeting.
--J.R.R. Tolkien
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