Hands down, the best yoga ever.

I've always despised yoga and with good reason. When I was little, my parents forced me to attend the Hindu-equivalent of Sunday School. Every weekend, I had to sit criss-cross-applesauce for what seemed like an eternity, learning Vedantic teachings and lots of other deep stuff I just wasn't wild about. Every now and then, a converted Brahman woman with her fake Indian name would show up and teach mandatory yoga. We'd have to breathe in, breathe out, throw a few Ommmmms in between and contort our bodies into freakish pretzel positions.

I was 12. In my mind, this was no place for a pre-teen. I just wanted to hit the movies, hang out in the mall and look at uber-hot Forenza sweaters in The Limited. Instead, Sundays were spent on rust-colored shag carpeting, doing unnatural things with my body. Forenza would have to wait again.

So, when my friend J-Bomb invited a few of us to an outdoor yoga class, I was skeptical. I wasn't sure I could behave and I wasn't sure I wanted to waste an hour of my time twisting, turning, contorting and listening to some instructor tell me breathe out and "let it go."

But, this time it was different. Our teacher was cool. Our teacher was funny. The positions we held were challenging and it felt good to stretch. Plus, we were basking in the warm glow of the sun and all you could hear was the great outdoors. OMG. I was yoga-ing and liked it!

Until...

"Let's stand on our heads!"

WTF?! My relaxed body tensed up. I contemplated what life would be like as a paraplegic. I was sure I'd be whisked off the tennis courts courtesy of Life Flight in a gurney with a head stabilizer. Oh no. No. No. No. I will not go to the hospital barefoot in yoga pants and a sports bra. (Why is it you're never dressed right when an emergency happens?)

Suddenly, everyone hit the deck. Hands were on the ground. Legs were up in the air. J-Bomb was fully inverted. WTF. Everybody was doing it. Some ladies even flipped over into a back-bend. Holy hell. Fucking peer pressure. I tried. Legs fell. I tried again. Legs flailed. I could not do the f'ing headstand. Quit while you're ahead, I thought and not in a wheelchair being fed by Mike and blogging via retinal scanner. Finally the teacher came over and hoisted my legs up. She let go. Just like the little toy boat who caught a breeze and was "sailing, really sailing!", I was headstanding, really headstanding! A second later, I crashed to the ground. But, J-Bomb was still standing -- it seemed like she had been doing it for an hour. The bully in me considered pushing her over. But, the thought of spoon-feeding her soup for the rest of her life, stopped me. Ah, yoga had given me clarity and presence of mind.

Finally, the shenanigans ended. We had now assumed Savasana, our final relaxation pose. Funny how it's also called the corpse pose and followed the headstand. Coincidence? I think not. So, our "corpses" inhaled nature, exhaled toxins. And, I have to admit. It was a great yoga class. Days later, my neck which is always stiff never felt better -- even with the attempted headstand. Hell, I might even try it again at home. Good thing the kids know how to dial 9-1-1.