BEACHWOOD, Ohio -- When I run, bike or swim, my goal is to go fast. With yoga, by contrast, I have no choice but to take it slow. Very slow.
Which is probably why "Slow Flow," a regular offering of Cleveland Yoga, sat so well with me, even as my tight hips kept me from actually sitting properly.
Between its stately pace and more-or-less realistic poses, the 60-minute session suited me just about as closely as any yoga program ever will, providing me with everything from soothing stretches and mind-clearing calm to attainable goals and sweat-inducing challenges.
Not that I enjoyed it, mind you. Not exactly. Sweeter, more helpful instructors don't exist, and my classmates couldn't have been more tolerant. Still, to be honest, I can't say I took a lot of pleasure in failing repeatedly, or found an answer to why great flexibility is even desirable in the first place. But this is neither here nor there.
No breaking news in how "Slow Flow" operates. Like just about every yoga class that doesn't involve silks or other devices, this one progresses through a series of gradually more difficult poses, addressing all four quadrants of the body and the mind in equal measure.
As I have from other yoga classes, too, I came away from "Slow Flow" feeling limber and loose, having thoroughly stretched all my hot-spots: quadriceps, hips, hamstrings, IT band, and shoulders. Somewhere in there, I'd also reached my lower back, yielding a welcome sense of solidity.
Some of the movements – for me, anyway – amounted to tests of brute strength. And so I also left with an activated upper body, as if I'd done several rounds of pushups. Which I had, essentially.
Much of the class was familiar, even to this newbie, who timidly enters yoga studio maybe two or three times a year. When the instructor asked for "Cobra" pose, "Downward Facing Dog," and "Child's Pose," for instance, I knew exactly what she meant.
Execution, of course, was another matter. To achieve anything close to a real "Dog," for instance, I had to deeply bend my knees and prop myself up with two yoga blocks in each hand. Other poses required me to sit on a thick, folded-up blanket, or to employ a strap. The wall next to me proved invaluable during a series of "Tree" poses targeting balance.
At least I wasn't alone. I may have had the most constricted body in the room, but I certainly wasn't the only one using props, modifying moves, or abstaining from certain poses altogether. These were my kinds of yoga people.
Hands down, though, my favorite aspect of "Slow Flow" was the pace. So accustomed to falling behind, feeling confused, and waiting around for a point of entry, I delighted at Cleveland Yoga in my ability to keep up, to understand what was happening and what I was or should have been doing. That's invaluable when you're so far behind from the start.
What I should be doing, of course, is going to "Slow Flow" every week, making a conscious effort to loosen up and increase my ranges of motion. Someday, perhaps. For now, it's just nice to know there's a place in the yoga world even for me.