So did my South Loop friend Anita--and we both joked that an exercise class that stretched us out and pulled us into pretzels was a perfect marketing tool for our physician hosts. If we pulled something or had some sort of breakage, attack or other sudden abnormality, we wouldn't have far to go for help. And the resident doctors kind of liked that, we surmised.
Another reason I wanted to sign up for a Friday morning yoga class is that something keeps coming up on Monday nights, preventing me from attending the yoga class I usually go to taught by Mary Ruth Coffey at another South Loop building, which is also close to home and cheap.
So we began with our teacher LaDrissa Bonivel
and it's been smooth sailing ever since. We've been downward dogging, forward bending and pigeon posing every Friday morning in a ground level studio at 1550 S. Indiana, generously provided by our doctor hosts.
LaDrissa mentioned to me a few weeks ago as we were rolling up our yoga mats after class that she was hungry--and that she eats eight times a day. "My," I said. "I can't believe you eat that much because you have a really good figure." But then I remembered how many more calories a day muscle burns and I said, "Well, you do have a lot of muscle to maintain."
It just so happens that our LaDrissa is going to compete in Tampa next weekend
in a bodybuilding competition. She won't be here for our class next week--which saddens me greatly--because not only have I not had a pull, a breakage, an attack or other sudden physical abnormality during the class, I am actually feeling pretty darn good--due to it.
In any case, this past Friday morning when I got to class, I pointed out to my classmates the very noisy, very smelly and very intrusive Streets and San
truck outside. "My goodness, I can't believe they're out there right in front sealcoating the pavement again. I never heard of doing it once a week--every Friday for three weeks. I guess they forgot Mayor Daley doesn't live here anymore--and they can ignore the pavement."
As we began class, LaDrissa was hard to hear--not to mention her beautiful yoga background music, which sets the mood and the tone. So she got up off her mat, opened the glass door that forms part of the wall of windows framing South Indiana from the studio--and she read the workers the riot act. And instead of telling her to bug off and leave them alone to pave and repave to their heart's content, they hopped to and told her they were sorry and would be done within five minutes. Actually, they were done within five seconds. It was very impressive. And we didn't hear or see--or smell--them for the rest of class.