This is Not Yoga

I joined a gym for the first time since December 2009. It’s in the basement of a Holiday Inn half a block from my apartment. It’s small. There is no light. It’s not sexy. So far I’ve only seen about three other men there, all with biceps the size of my thigh.

And there, I run. I go fast, I breathe hard, and sweat. There is nothing gentle, spacious or accommodating about it.

This is not yoga. But it is what I need right now.

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