Yogabug

When I was preparing to leave D.C. all I could think about were the things I’d experienced for the past few years that I would now be missing: drinks at Biddy Mulligan’s, going out on the weekends with my friends, my favorite yoga class. The Wednesday before leaving for New York, I decided I had to go to the class one last time. In 2004, it was my New Year’s resolution to start taking yoga, so I got sucked into the most difficult 90-minute, tri-weekly yoga class I’ve ever encountered. By the end of the packed class, the windows and mirrors were fogged up and every participant dripped with sweat. Beyond the actual challenge of the class, I loved the instructor Susan, a 60-year-old spitfire of a woman with spiky gray hair and attitude to spare. Some choice remarks from her classes:
Now peel your feet apart like you’re opening up a bun for your soy hot dog.
Don’t get smug just because you can get into this pose.
If you’re not going to try it, you’re not allowed to look at other people.
Sit on your heel so it’s just between number 1 and number 2.
Well you’re not even trying, are you?

She is the epitome of what Peapod would call a sassy sheila. The class was all I’d hoped for between the challenge, the sweat and the hilarious comments, and afterward I approached Susan to say goodbye and tell her how much I’d appreciated her.

It turns out she’s moving to Minneapolis as soon as she can sell her condo, which was shocking news to me. I had imagined that when I left, everything would stay just as it had been and should I ever want to return, I could slip back into my old habits of Biddy’s and weekend carousing and crazy yoga nights. It was a naïve assumption of course. Most of my friends in D.C. are getting married over the next year, some will move farther out into the suburbs and some will move to other cities. D.C. is an especially transient city and people don’t tend to stay for long. If and when I go back, I’ll have to adjust, just as if I’d moved to any new city.

The good news is that Susan makes it to NYC a lot and gave me her card to keep in touch. It has a picture of her and her husband from the 70s with her Minneapolis address and email. She also gave me a button with a little ladybug-looking thing on it and told me, “wear this button. It’s a yogabug just like you.” Then she gave me a hug and we both moved one step closer to leaving home.