Once Upon a Time: True Stories of an Aspiring Writer

22: The Relaxation Recollection

SOMETIMES IT'S THE LITTLE THINGS in life. I hope you'll allow me to indulge by telling you about a time period that doesn't lend itself to much of a story, but is still special. 

At my high school, we were required to sign up for clubs. I signed up for a community service group led by our history teacher, which was okay, usually. Most of what we did in junior year was clean out the basement storage units for a sale where we would put the profits toward a good cause. Not terribly fulfilling. 

The following year, another faculty member took over. She liked me, and encouraged me to run for president even though I didn't want to be president. Presidents of groups had to attend student council meetings every week. And did I have what it took? 

But on election day, she nominated me anyway, so I had to stand up and talk about what I would bring to the table.  When a girl who didn't especially like me named Talia saw I was running, her eyes widened and decided to run out of nowhere. Of course, she won. 

Danielle, on the other hand, joined a choral group. This could have been interesting too, but they often ran past lunch, and that wasn't an option for me. 

Eventually, we found a new interest in yoga, which was by far the most fun. I had only previously done some yoga at Quaker school, near the end of the year once. While the eighth grade went on their traditional trip, the rest of the upper school would participate in a non-graded, nontraditional unit, as it were. We discussed spiritualty and beliefs in sixth grade, where I had tried yoga. It was interesting enough.

 Because we didn't have a traditional gym class, we all chose a different athletic option for four days a week. Field hockey would have been nice, but according to the school "the sticks were too dangerous." So I started out with a simple option of working out in the weight room, which was boring. The following year, though, a yoga instructor would be coming to campus. Danielle and I signed up. Even if we didn't like it, we would be together. 

And we did enjoy it. Some of my fondest memories were of lying on our mats, talking about random things before class started, in the dark. One time, I was regaling her with the story of how my family was driving back from a Baltimore weekend. Desperation drove my dad to pull over and use a Port-a-Potty, named Mr. Bob is On The Job. We kept laughing right up until class started. 

Because yoga was classy.

Not that we didn't work hard, because we did. We took on some difficult poses, including one where we had to lie on the floor and put our hands underneath us, sort of like a plank position.  One day, we even tried headstands. It took a while for me to get this pose, and the teacher spent lots of time working with me while everyone else waited. It was mildly embarrassing, but mostly just annoying. But this was a minor setback. We signed up again next year.

After a day of classes, I'd de-stress by visiting my favorite Mario fansite, or occasionally, a Titanic fanfiction site. I'd also get changed for yoga, which only entailed getting into a comfy, well-fitting pair of yoga pants and a random Tshirt that would also be my evening outfit. At 3:45, it would be time to start heading out. Yoga this semester, though, would take place at a building across the street. It used to be a hotel back in the day, though we weren't sure why---there was nothing in the area, unless you were an Olympic horse rider or liked golf. It looked more like an old house. 

The room itself was sunny and warm and could definitely pass for someone's living room without furniture. Yellow walls enhanced the new-age pictures on the wall, what few there were. Thin gauzy, white curtains were tied around the windows. Shelving on the wall to my right displayed various knickknacks and a clock that you could use to keep an eye on the time with, and a tiny bathroom was behind it. Although some poses would give me the urge to poop, I resolved never to use it. A bathroom right there would draw attention to me, wouldn't it? To my right, where I usually placed my mat, was a brick fireplace with some little candles.