Old Purple Mats

When I forced Sean to go to his first yoga class in January, it was for entirely selfish reasons.  I had been practicing yoga at home with various DVDs off and on for about 10 years, but I had never been to a real class. A new studio opened just a few minutes from work and was offering free classes for their first week.



"This is my chance," I thought.  I could give it a try without any risk, financial risk at least.  There was only one problem...I was terrified.  What if I had been doing it wrong all of these years?  Would I be judged by all of the professional yoga class attenders? (I know there is no such thing as a "professional yoga class attender", and "attender" is not actually a real word, but it was a genuine fear of mine at the time.)
So I begged and pleaded, and Sean reluctantly agreed.  We gathered two of my ten year old Target mats (both purple, I might add) and headed to the first free class of the week.  The instructor was kind and understanding. She brought her husband to the class, so Sean was one of two men in a class of approximately 10 people.
It was a lot more challenging than I thought it would be, but no one judged.  Everyone in the class seemed to have one pose with which they struggled.  My legs were shaking by the end of the class, but I was hooked.  Sean, however, was not.  He agreed that he would continue to go to classes, "if I really wanted him to" in order to spend more time with me.
On Thursday of that week, I received an email that the studio had extended the free classes through Saturday.  Our friend, Emily, recommended the class because the instructor was a family friend of hers.  I talked Sean into going to one more yoga class with me that week...