Lucy...

...was the name of my *first* yoga instructor.

Actually, she was the Pilates instructor at the first gym I ever joined (TopNotch in London). As alluded to in my first post, I've never been an "athletic" person (those of you who have known me since way-back-when can attest to that!), so joining a fitness club was a bit of an odd thing for me to do. But they had wide screen TVs, broadcasting SkyTV, plenty of Madonna, Geri Halliwell, and Robbie Williams (it was Summer, 2000, for reference). I was newly-married, living in London, and thought it might be a good idea to have a back-up plan of things to do while my husband was working late nights. Besides, our flat was the size of my current walk-in closet (ie, not that big), so I needed to get out!

Lucy was great. She was a bit "goth" - breaking the traditional mold of what a "trainer" looks like here in the US (in my narrow mind, a buff, Olympic-bound hard body who loves to sweat it out). Lucy had long, dyed black hair, a few wayward piercings, and a love for dark lipstick and voluminous black clothes (hiding what must have been amazing abs!). Despite all prejudices I had, she was punctual and reliable - there every Tuesday evening, smiling, encouraging and supporting us through the "routine". She actually bothered to learn our names! The best part, looking back, is that Lucy would share with us her experiences with her own yoga teacher, and explain how she tried to incorporate that week's sessions into our Pilates class - though very faithfully, not diverting far from Joseph Pilates' philosophies and intentions. I guess we were getting "yogilates" before Yogilates was invented.

I was a faithful student. I was there every week. I would tell her the week prior whenever I wouldn't be able to make the next session. I tried my hardest every week, and my goal was to "earn" a position in the front row. I yearned to be one of those people in the class whom she would refer to in her British accent as she was walking around the room, adusting form, moving on to the next exercise: "Now, let's move on to scissors...if you're not sure, watch the people in the front row...". I luuuurved Pilates. I luuuuuuuurved the way she taught the class. I wouldn't hesitate to wax on and on about it afterwards with my husband and his friend over pints (promptly undoing my work at the gym, by the way).

Looking back, I can't tell if I loved her or loved the class. But it doesn't matter. Lucy gave me some sort of appreciation for what accomplishments I could make - the gentle pushes she made each week were just what I needed. A foundation of sorts, to eventually find a practice that I could enjoy and make my own, even if it was gradual. Little by little, week by week. After a good 3 years of practice, I can appreciate that this "building" is what yoga is all about, afterall. When I was leaving London for good, I exchanged addresses with Lucy, and even communicated "snail mail" for a correspondance or two. I lamented my departure, and didn't know where to pick up when I returned to the States. Lucy explained that she was "Stott-trained", and gave me loads of info about where to get DVDs for home practice.

While I still enjoy a good Pilates practice, I think Yoga is my favorite, and maybe that has something to do with Lucy and her less-formulaic approach as an instructor. She remains my "gold standard" for gym instructors, and when I'm in a new class, and the instructor advises differently from how Lucy used to do, I dutifully follow along, but make a begrudging mental note that "that's not how Lucy would have done it..." Yoga, for me, is perfect, in the sense that I have a core group of poses I can fall back on...some of which have taken 3 years of practice to get myself into, mind you, and I still haven't mastered them! Much like Gaudi's Sagrada Familia, I may never complete them. It's gradual. It is building on what I did last week. It's honoring what progress I have made and what accomplishments are yet to come. There's always the hope that one day I might be able to...but it's okay if I never do. How can you not love that?

Please share what you love about yoga and/or your instructor!

Namaste.