Because I will take you on.  A snooty San Diegan yoga instructor now knows this quite well.

I have been wrapped up in wedding madness for the past few days (hence the recent lack of blogging), and had the pleasure of spending a couple of days on Coronado Island, where my best friend held her ceremony and reception.

The morning of the wedding, I was up bright and early and decided to fit in a quick workout at the hotel gym.  The gym was one of the better hotel gyms I have used: two rooms dedicated to cardio equipment and weight lifting machines, and one generous space for stretching and free weights.  As a self-proclaimed gym rat, I was very impressed with the quality of the equipment and the abundance of workout options.

After a quick cardio session, I went to the strength and stretching room to do some light weight lifting (nothing too strenuous!) and a cool down.  Stretching is kind of important when you’re pregnant – gotta keep those hips open and those back aches at bay.

Two women were in the room practicing yoga.  Not wanting to disturb them, I quietly walked to the far corner and silently picked out a few dumbbells.

“Excuse me,” the instructor piped up.  “Can you wait until we are finished with our class?”

Class?  What class?  There is one other person in here.

“I’m sorry,” I replied quite politely, “But I am on a tight schedule this morning and I can’t wait.”

“But you are very distracting,” the yoga instructor replied.

Funny, you’re the one who interrupted your “class” to argue with the pregnant woman silently stretching her hamstrings in the far corner of the room. 

“I’m sorry, but this is the only space to do this,” I said and continued about my business.  The instructor turned away in a huff and resumed her instruction.

At the end of her “class”, she turned to her single participant and said just loud enough for me to hear, “It’s so nice when people respect our space.  I’m sorry that didn’t happen today”.  Oh, a passive-aggressive yoga instructor.  How lovely.

Say something else, Biotch.  Say. Something. Else.

She obliged, turning to me this time, “You were VERY distracting”.

Are you kidding me?  While you were lying down with your eyes closed in corpse pose, I was distracting you? 

“Ma’am,” I said firmly.  “I am a paying hotel guest and this is a hotel facility.  It is my right to be here, and it is completely unreasonable for you to monopolize this entire space.”

“But it’s a class!”  She replied indignantly.

“There are no signs, no indications anywhere that this space is reserved for a class”.

“But I told you!” the yogi exclaimed, flustered.

Yes, you told me you were teaching a class.  Not that you needed the sole stretching area – a very, very large stretching area – to teach ONE person at the exclusion of all other paying guests.

“Ma’am,” I repeated calmly, “You were one of two people utilizing this room.  I have restricted myself to the corner of the room, far out of your way, and remained completely silent.”

“But we are practicing yoga, not pumping iron!”

I’d hardly call bicep curls with 5-lb weights “pumping iron”. 

“It messed up our whole energy!” She continued, as if yelling at the pregnant woman was going to restore her balance and zen.

“Again, I am a guest at this hotel and allowed to use this space.  It is ridiculous to try to exclude other guests from using a facility they are paying for so that you and one other person may practice your yoga,” I said unruffled, continuing my plié squats.

Why is your exercise more important than mine?

“Well I hope you got what you need!”  She screeched sarcastically (in case that wasn’t obvious) while storming out of the room.

Yup, sure did!  Thanks! 

My goodness.  If she wasn’t the angriest yoga instructor I’ve ever encountered.  What about peace and love?  Focusing on your inner strength and self?  Tranquility and relaxation?

I do understand her frustration, though – it’s so hard to argue with reason.

With that in mind, when the pregnant woman is the calm, reasonable one, maybe the yoga instructor should consider a new career.