Q

Somewhere in the cusp of adulthood, I found my body.

Let me put it in finer terms. It was to realise that I could myself operate the material body I have been driven around in.

By then, I was acutely aware of my mind — how it worked; why, what I can do with it, and when I was powerless to it. It was in those moments of powerlessness that I discovered the body could be a machinery of escape. The first time it happened, I ran – literally – away from my mind and emotions. I took to running twice a week, then more, every other day, maybe more days a week than not.

As I ran, the rhythm carrying me forward and away, everything else peeled away. To think became a conscious effort, and I often ascribed a theme to each run: thinking about the future, a fantasy, a dream. There was no space for my mind to wander into the dark: all it took was to peddle my feet against the resistance of wind and soreness to bring myself back to the physical present.

I ran so much, and ran away from so much then. I was and am grateful for my body for providing that means of escape.

Years later, as I grew into myself, the engine of my mind spun voraciously. There was so much energy, always wanting more, seeking more, and it would not quiet. Then, I found HIIT. It was the perfect concentrated, potent dose of adrenaline I needed. To utterly exhaust myself through my body. With every burpee and squat jump, I pushed myself to go higher, faster — more than running I had no space for thoughts. My mind in the 45 minutes flattens its multiple threads to a single, focussed voice: go, more, higher, push.

I love HIIT, love the agility, the powerful bursts of energy my body is capable of giving, bigger and stronger each day.

Then COVID hit, and my lungs could no longer fill up like a balloon — my breath felt reedy, my body sluggish. I turned to yoga, which I had previously sworn to hate because it was ‘too slow’, ‘boring’. I couldn’t understand why my body, strong as it was, could not achieve a simple yoga pose, and why the way I did handstands out of brute strength was incorrect.

This time, though, yoga connected me (my mind) to not only my body, but the material space around me. I found myself moving, manoeuvring, and holding my body in ways I have never before. I stretched ancient muscles and learnt to be still. I observed that my balance is excellent, and my back flexibility extremely not. I noticed that I loathed stretching not because it was a bore, but because it was so painful for me (still is).

Outside of yoga classes, I now find acute control over my body, the same way I found agility and power in HIIT. More than that, it is not only in the momentary space of working out that I can distract myself from my ceaselessly unspooling thoughts. It is the practice of just. pausing, breathing, and letting it be, that has translated to my daily life outside of yoga.

Yoga grounds me.

You know what I will never succumb to though?

Spin. Not in a million years of rhabdo-infused pee will I fall into that cult, no thank you.