The Journey of The Mystery Yogi
Prana Power Yoga
862 Broadway
(between 17th St & 18th St)
Thursday 7:45-9PM
http://www.pranapoweryoga.com/
The Mystery Yogi. Like John Wayne in The Searchers, he is always…um, searching.
This Asana Enigma is beginning a quest to find the perfect Yoga experience. He will share his experiences with our readers beginning…um, now.
I, the Mystery Yogi, like certain things in life to be hot. Tamales, Toddies, Pockets, Dogs. And yes, Yoga. Thus, I arrived in Union Square to test the mettle of Prana Power Yoga. Located across the Park from what used to be Virgin Megastore (moment of silence… my last purchase was You Me and Dupree for $2.99), Prana Power is a blink-and-you’ll-miss it small 2nd floor studio. The lobby is air-conditioned, the antithesis of what’s to come, and there is little room for one’s belongings, just a circular shelf filled with cubbyholes.
I immediately spy what passes for changing rooms: two shower curtains hanging from circular rods. Luckily, my only wardrobe is my Yoga pants. Purple, like my hero the Hulk, another lonely wanderer with green skin (long story).
Speaking of showers, there is just one, There is also one bathroom, separate from the shower room. Upon my arrival the line for the restroom was 9 people long, which didn’t bode well for cleaning up quickly after class. Mystery Yogi flirted with the bladderful students until he was able to get up to the front of the line.
We begin in child’s pose, arise for 3 Oms and then it’s straight into a basic Sun A. You know the drill. The teacher suggests that we clear our minds by saying, “I am breathing in, I am breathing out.” I am quickly scolded for doing this out loud to the tune of “The Impossible Dream” from Man from La Mancha.
We continue into Sun B, and then cover the greatest hits…Warriors 1 and 2, Pigeon, Yada-Yada-Asana. At the end of the 75 minute class, everyone is soaked and gross. Mystery Yogi was forced to clean his own rented mat, the ultimate indignity. Don’t they know who I am? (Oh that’s right. Nobody does.)
As all the Yogis were too tired and sweaty to succumb to my charms, Mystery Yogi was last in line for the bathroom and shower. I emerged, clean and “shoveled”, a week later.
Alas, while nice, this was not the ultimate class I am looking for. And so my search goes on. I will walk the earth until I find the greatest Yoga class ever. And when I do, I will probably sign up for the monthly pass.
–Mystery Yogi for BiteSize