Day 4: Hurts so good

EAT:
While I haven't had California sushi before this trip, I just had a feeling that it would be amazing. So I was very excited to I have lunch today at Fuji Japanese Restaurant. Unfortunately, it didn't quite live up to my high expectations. The volcano roll was fantastic, crunchy, flavorful, filling, and I would recommend it for anyone who goes there. But overall, the raw fish in the sushi was good, but not great.

DRINK:
I went to a dive bar called Mervyn's in Mountain View this evening. It was like one those sad bars that I have seen only in dramatic movies set somewhere in the rust belt. It was a small airless room. A wife and husband with their coats still on taking up one of the four booths in the place. A bunch of older solo drinkers were glued to the stools near the bar. One wild-haired woman had a glass of a whiskey and a Bud Light in front of her and muttered to herself all evening. No fancy cocktails could be ordered here. I was vetoed when I asked for a Jack and ginger. But there was a juke box in the corner and the drinks were cheap. Who could ask for anything more?

YOGA:
The thing about being a yoga tourist is that you don't really know what to expect from any class that you go to. Sure you may know what style you're choosing, but there is so much variety within schools of yoga that the title doesn't tell you much. So you try to look around for hints and clues of what is to come. Are students carrying water bottles? How many props do people grab? Is there a harmonium set up in the corner? These things are important signs.

When I arrived at Yoga Tree San Francisco at the Castro location, I noticed that there was a large group of people who showed up incredibly early for the 11 class. It was 1045 and at least 10 to 15 people had already arrived (note: there was on average 15 people total in attendance at all the other yoga classes I have taken this week). First sign: big class.

Then the doors opened to the practice space and the earlier class poured out followed by a gust of warm wind followed them. Heated room. This is another sign.

And as I walked in to set down my mat, I saw a staff member with a mop in hand and towels wrapped around the feet, sashaying across the floor to wipe up the sweat. My neighbors were not only unrolling their mats but had rugs and towels too. And then I knew.

I was about to get my butt kicked.

By 11am about 75 people filled the room. This is the largest class I have been to that wasn't a special workshop. There is something intense about chanting with so many people in one room. It's like the vibrations echo within your body. Like your insides are hollowed out and replaced with an echoing church organ.

And then the class began. Extensive lunging sequences. Quad-burning ukatasana sequences. Leg lifts. Arm balance after arm balance. Ab work. Bind here. Bind there. Midway through the class, one of the assistants brought me a towel because it looked like I was going to slip off my mat. It was the type of challenging yoga class where your mind can't wander, because you need all of your energy and focus just to make it through the hour and a half.

Yes, it was hard and I could already feel my body becoming sore, but boy was that savasana sweet.