From the Department of Competition

June 04, 2020 / Dave Klaus

I have been doing yoga since the early 1990s. I remember when our dear friend Kelly took my wife Alycia and me to a class in a woman’s basement in Columbus. At that point, at least in Ohio, yoga was a super-weird thing that only flaky hippies did, and in truth I had no idea what it actually was.

Fortunately, I aspired to being a flaky hippy, and so when Kelly mentioned it I was eager to go.

I remember how the lady’s house smelled like fried seafood and her enormous husband would always be lying on the couch as we padded by to the studio, aka the dark and scary basement, the kind where the light never reaches any corner.

I have gone in and out of practice ever since, and then I got lucky when a new studio opened a block from my house. I have been going once or twice a week for almost four years now.

I love yoga, especially now that I have learned to do it in kinder gentler way, because it turns out that for all those years, I was engaged in what I affectionately call “Doing Yoga like a Dude.”

That means, I saw it as a competitive sport, where I was constantly trying to win the class: best posture, deepest lunge, most sweaty, most meditative.

You name it.

I wanted to be the best. I wanted to get an A in Yoga. I wanted to Win.

This approach, which some current commentators might describe as masculine, led to me getting injured a lot, and to sometimes feeling shame and embarrassment in class, with some occasional anger and frustration.

So it was with delight that I realized a few weeks ago that I have finally learned how to practice yoga more like a normal person, and less like a hormone-driven teenage version of me.

Here’s what happened.

I got to my 6:30 am class, and decided to switch things up and set my mat on the other side of the room. This put me next to this younger guy who seemed like a real Gumby-type. I later learned his name was Jesse, and he goes to class every day.

I immediately felt my competitive-yoga reflex come online, and just as quickly realized that I could never compete with Jesse, so I made a conscious decision not to try.

I decided instead that I would go for Second Place.

Immediately, I felt relaxed and blissful.

I didn’t need to go deeper than Jesse on every chataranga, and it didn’t matter that he could do that cool Crow pose and I couldn’t. I was just chilling: I didn’t need to win.

All I wanted was a solid second.

Now one thing that helps me tame my inner competitor is that I wear glasses, and at class I take them off, which renders me pretty much blind and unable to see anyone else. This really helps.

Except today I could see Jesse next to me, and I could see that he was totally kicking my ass.

But Wait. Wait. Wait!

As soon as I noticed it, I would remind myself: second place, second place, and relax again.

Smooth. Chill. Deeeeeeep!!!!

And then it was time for “optional" headstands and I decided, no way am I trying that, not today, not for my second place. Instead, I just did some child’s pose and mopped my drenched forehead and hung out.

Of course Jesse went for it and began his headstand practice and he. was. awesome.

Perfect, brilliant headstands. He was a like the Washington Monument of headstands. He was like the Eiffel Tower in his sinuous expansion and grace.

And then, it happened:

He fell over! Spectacularly!

In fact, he almost took me out! I had to side-scoot to get out of the way!

He smiled at me apologetically and I gave him a generous, if not downright beneficent, “It’s all good dude.”

Almost done with class now, I congratulated myself for the dozenth time for my maturity and wisdom.

Second place is Cool Dave! You have learned so much! You Go!!!

And then it hit me. I had won. I had won the class.

Jesse blew it!

He wiped out and almost crushed me. That’s a major yoga faux pas, a critical mistake!

And this could only mean one thing: I WON FIRST PLACE!!!

With my mellow attitude and my caution, with my wisdom and maturity, I was the better yogi today!

I WON FIRST PLACE!!!!

I have to say, realizing this felt damn good.

All my training, all my personal work, my meditation, my hard won moxie, it had all led to this place. To my Yoga Victory!

As, I smugly lowered myself down to do shivasana, the corpse pose, the blissful ending to our work, I came to my senses with a snort.

Crap! I did it again! My ego got me! I was doing yoga like a Dude again! In fact, I was doing it the whole time!

At this humbling realization, I started to laugh out loud at my own silliness... at my tricky, manipulative ego. At my ever-present striving teenage masculinity.

At this point, as everyone else was resting in corpse pose, I was laughing and laughing. Indeed, I laughed all the way to that last Namaste.The Dude in me honors the Dude in you.

Yoshin Coaching and Consulting

From the Department of Competition