Spine, I got your back: Svaroopa-Style Yoga

It's funny how laziness works.

Nine times out of 10, I'd choose an hour of one-on-one time with the sofa over 60 minutes of heavy exercise.

I'll wait patiently for the elevator rather than take the stairs (Besides, I think we should all work to keep stairwells clear in case of an emergency. Yes, that's it. An emergency).

I'll choose cereal over any meal that requires more than five minutes of preparation (because when you're hungry, you're hungry).

It all amounts to a little thing called sloth. And mastered it I have.

But once the decision to work out has been made, something tricky shifts in my noggin. I think it's called "motivation." And I think it has something to do with the chest squeezing effects of a sports bra. Once that puppy is on, my determination is transformed. It's like Superman's cape.

I'm ready to lift heavy objects and sprint to distant destinations (or in loops. Sometimes I think if I run around Mackworth Island fast enough, I'll set it to spinning in the Atlantic like some monstrous merry-go-round).

But low-impact yoga? P'shaw! Where's the caloric benefit in that?

It's like Clark Kent transforming into Superman in order to take a super nap.

But hey, if it's part of Quest for your Best, then I'll give it a whirl. Open mind, open mind, open mind.

For my first yoga feat, I opted for Svaroopa style yoga®: "with the use of props and a focus on awareness, Savroopa Style Yoga® helps to release the very deepest layers of tension stored in the muscles supporting your spine."

My spine could probably use some love. He's always been such a supportive fellow.

Instructor Dean Cilley had us all recline back onto blankets, propping our legs up on supports (made up of more blankets). The goal: straighten and lengthen that spine.

Dean came by each of us one by one and asked if we wanted help further lengthening our spines.

Um, okay.

He reached his hand under my shoulder and made the slightest adjustment. And I could feel the change. He did the same to the other shoulder and then my hips. And holy Savroopa, the difference was remarkable. I felt looooonger. Spacious. Unkinked.

We lie there for a while, conscientiously breathing in and out.

Throughout the class we used props (blocks and blankets) to position ourselves, then ultimately ended up back in the original position.

And by the time class concluded, I didn't want to get up. I was comfortable. Relaxed. Mellow.

It wasn't what I imagine most yoga classes are like. I never heard "downward dog" once. But it was an ideal introduction to the peculiar yoga world - and evidence that sweat isn't a necessary ingredient in the art of "doing your body good."

And my spine said it was probably the nicest thing I ever did for him.

You earned it, buddy. You earned it.