It’s all fun and zen until someone says no

I need to find something that will get my motor running, in the exercise sense. In my brain I get all amped up to get moving, eat better, lose weight, blah blah blah. Then the low-fuel light comes on and I find myself parked on the couch yet again, with no motivation to actually move. If good intentions caused weight loss, I'd be a freaking size 2!

I have been wanting to try Yoga for a while. Always been interested in it, and the pilates I’ve done have intrigued me enough to at least make me turn my head when I drive past the yoga place next to where I get my nails done.

So I decided to stop in and see if they offered beginner classes. They were happy as can be to sign me up for a private introductory class where they assess your breathing, flexability and cetra for a zen-strodinary low price of twenty-five bucks.

I came in with an open mind, and was led through an hour-long session with my own personal yogi – a nice zenkid named Chad who didn’t smell like I had feared and was touchy in a non-creepy kind of way.

So at the end of my enlightening session (yoga does make you sweat by the way, or at least it does to my sorry out of shape ass), Chad just happened to have a book of options for signing my life away opening the door to personal zen.

The pricing seemed a bit steep, and the packages were in the plural month ranges, and seemed to require some $50 “uniform” and a registration fee. Not really something I wanted to get sucked into, considering my last attempt at a gym membership cost me $75 a month for a year, for a grand total of two visits (that is $450 a visit my friend).

My frugal chakra flashed bright red at the options (which didn’t include a la cart) and I started my not so subtle attempt to say no.

Little did I realize that Chad had a healthy dose of salesman in his non-threatening hemp yoga outfitted frame. I said I had to check with my husband on the expense and that I would get back to them. I hid a smile at his blandly delivered reply - "Do you check with your husband on every expense?"

So I did actually bring it up to Rob, who thought the price was steep but also thought it would be good if I felt I could commit to it. Then a little research brought up a few articles that accused this chain of being a front for a cult. Okaaaay.

I called the place to say I was going to pass, and had to endure a very not-zen session of excuse and counter-excuse and being put through their sales paces. In the end, they were obviously annoyed that neither I or my wallet was not going to be enlightened by their locale, and I hung up the phone to flee the bad energy coming through the lines.

Still inspired, I found another local Yoga center that seems more explorer friendly and I will go to a beginner class tomorrow to check it out. No uniform required. Per-class pricing if needed. How zen.