Our yoga instructor F calls me Jean.
When he asked my name on the first day of class, I said, “Jing.”
I didn’t bother to correct him anymore because quite frankly, I never thought I’d see him again. I thought I’d just give this Bikram Yoga one try, and then disappear.
Surprisingly enough, I like going to class. I like getting all hot and sweaty. I like stretching my 44-year-old body, begging it to please, please hold the pose just a little bit longer. I like feeling the tension on my muscles, and feeling the relaxation which every exhalation brings.
Of course, it’s not easy.
I have not had any sort of fitness routine for years, so my unfit state was quite obvious. Teacher F said something like: “Now that you started, you should keep coming back because it seems that some of you have not been doing much exercise.” If he had replaced “some of you” with Jean, it would have been perfectly fine with me! Mwahahaha
I actually like Teacher F’s exhortations, it gets me motivated. He’d say, “Don’t give up on me, Jean.” And I’d try to execute the pose like my life depended on it. He’d go, “Keep smiling.” And I’d try to manage a grin even if I was too busy trying to breathe. He’d say, “Lift your hips higher, Jean. Higher.” And I wanted to say, “I’m really trying but my ass is just too big!” Mwahahaha
I wonder how long I’d be able to keep this up