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part II

Confessions of a weekend warrior:
Attention all reluctant men and the women who love them
OR
Real men do yoga
Part I

I didn’t fall in love with yoga overnight.  In fact, I didn’t like the first couple of classes I took.  It took about 4 years for me to come to love yoga.  I cannot tell you the secret recipe for getting your guy onto the mat and loving yoga.  We each have our own journey --  he has to do it on his own.  I can share with you my story, how my wife introduced me to yoga, and what yoga has done for me in my life.  Be patient; and, remember, if and when he does come to love yoga, he will thank you. 

One of the greatest gifts my wife has given me, besides two darling daughters, is introducing me to yoga.  She was patient and persistent and made all of the opportunities available for me to do yoga, if and when I wanted to, without trying to force me or pressure me to do it. 

First I need to tell you about my wife, Stephanie.  She’s a personal trainer and taught all the club group exercise activities, kickboxing, step, spinning, etc.  She had been doing yoga for years and loved it.  My view was that it was another girl activity, not something that real men do.  Real men play football and lift free weight and get their exercise doing triathlons -- a slight exaggeration, but you get the picture.  Steph classified me as a “weekend warrior” – my idea of the perfect life was working hard making money Monday through Friday and playing hard on the weekends, sort of an adrenaline junkie.  I grew up playing competitive sports like football, baseball, racing motorcycles, and martial arts.  As I matured into my late twenties and we started our family, I found new weekend athletic passions such as windsurfing in the Columbia Gorge, snow skiing, mountain biking, and running.  I loved my weekends.  The stress of owning my own business and having a family all became much easier if I could just get away for a few hours on a weekend and be at one with nature on my mountain bike or skimming the water on my sailboard. 

Skiing with some buddies one weekend (who were in their mid 30s) the conversation came up about how when they turned 30 their bodies started falling a part and everything started to hurt.  Wouldn’t happen to me, I told them. I had just turned 30 and felt fine.  I don’t want to admit that they were right, but shortly after my 31st birthday, the mindbody stress of my “adrenaline junkie” lifestyle began to take its toll on my body.  Injuries seemed to be a weekly occurrence, keeping me away from work and the things I loved to do on the weekends. I’d get cranky and depressed. 

During this time, Steph was getting more into yoga, loving it, and experiencing some good transformations of her own.  She talked me into signing up for an “8-week Introduction to Yoga” class at a local studio.  I think I went to two classes.  I was so bored.  We mostly laid there with our feet up against the wall, or in child’s pose.  “Where’s the fun in this?” I thought.  I stayed away from yoga for a few months.  Steph talked me into signing up for another, more advanced, 8-week class.  She assured me that there would be more movement and some strengthening.  I thought, “Cool, some action.”  I went to the class and started to like it.  Still, it did not make it a priority.  I wasn’t yet in touch with my body enough to know that I was getting some good out of it (even though I was just doing it a couple times a month). 

On a weekend ski trip to Mount Bachelor, I started feeling low back pain the first two days and wasn’t going to let it ruin my last day of skiing.  I thought Icy Hot and Advil would get me through the day, my back thought otherwise.  On our second run through the moguls, my back locked up on me.  It felt like someone stabbed me in the low back with a kitchen knife.  It was all I could do to stop.  I couldn’t breathe, talk or move.  I did get a very painful ride down the mountain in a ski patrol sled. 
Thankfully, the X-rays and MRI results showed no major damage to the discs.  Some seriously irritated nerve endings in my sacrum were causing muscle spasms in my low back.  I later came to learn that the muscles in my low back had been weakening due to inactivity from sitting at my desk during the week and were then being shocked into overuse on the weekends.  The back spasms occurred frequently over the next few years.  Usually, the pain was so intense that I couldn’t walk or drive for a few days.  They were occurring more and more often and the smallest things would cause them: bending over to put on my socks, playing with the kids, doing yard work, sitting.  My weekend passions were out of the question.  I was feeling frustrated and depressed.  I felt like someone had taken something very special away from me.   I felt like a 100-year-old man at the age of 34 -- limping around, not able to turn my head.  I tried everything to improve my back, physical therapy, chiropractic adjustments, acupuncture, massage, -- they all worked and felt great short term, but nothing was really curing the problem.  What I didn’t know was that, what I thought was my greatest weakness, would turn into my greatest strength.