Confessions of a Personal Trainer
by Brett MacLean
Pants are over-rated, and over-priced. Don’t get me wrong. I own A LOT of Lululemon. I’ve purchased my fair share of overpriced pantaloons from the Chip Wilson’s cash cow. I became a big fan of Chip when his innovative company, Westbeach (circa 1995) began selling technical snowboard wear…i.e: jackets that keep you warm, dry but don’t make you look like a European ski instructor.
Every week in my rather forward-thinking Joga “Jock Yoga” class I peer across the room at lines of Lululemon-clad bottoms mastering crouching downward dog. Originally Yoga is about finding the light within, balancing body with mind, and stretching your muscles out before a long bout of seated meditation. Most lovelies in my class can barely pronounce Namaste, let alone attempt a seated meditation. So when did the practice make the jump from hippie to yuppie in one, smooth spandexed leap? Is nothing authentic anymore?
Fifteen years ago when the art, now turned Yuppie sport, of Yoga was impregnating the fitness broodmare of the Western world a few savvy businessmen, I dare say Chip was one of them, jumped on the opportunity and collectively convinced North American that Yoga could not be practiced without the proper gear. Much like you wouldn’t play football without pads, you wouldn’t dare attempt a Sun Salutation if your legs were not wrapped in a protective layer of $100 designer Lycra pants![sam id=”15″ codes=”true”]And much like introducing a new predator into a virgin ecosystem, I wonder how life would be if these savvy businessmen thought more about “should” then “could”. And now look, 2016. We live in a Jurassic Park of seaweed-enhanced outfits and plastic, landfill-bursting Starbucks cups decorated with tidbits of dubious wisdom. Stretch people. Relax people. Purchase Lululemon to lead a better life people. At the same time, Yoga studios are charging upwards of $18/class so you can stretch, breath (I’m paying to breath? Really?), and listen to “Om Sammy Sammy Guru cha-ching” with your ass in the air. You could do that on your bedroom floor, wearing only a cowboy hat, and the stretch would be almost as good. Not to mention free.
I’m taking back Yoga. I’m doing my downward dog in grey sweatpants, or hell, naked. Much to the amusement of my husband. I’m going to continue my Yoga practice in a way that suits me, not feeling the need for a compulsory wardrobe. It’s all the same when your sweaty anyway, isn’t it? To be fair, there are worse fad bandwagons than Lululemon that I could jump on in a mad attempt to seem trendy. I could knit a plaid infinity scarf while cooking organic lemongrass bone broth and sipping on Gruit Ale. Or buy only omega-injected, free-range, organic bison tenderloin for $1,300/lb. AND use the slang words ‘Bae’, ‘Drill down’, and ‘rightsizing’.
Ok, ok time to put my shaker cup of Hater-aide down. I guess I can’t blame everyone for buying/wearing $100 Lulu pants. They do make your bum look like a dream. I only own 13 pairs. #Hypocrite … And hey, relaxation (and snazzy bums) sell like hotcakes. Maybe I’m just bitter I didn’t invest in Yoga clothing. Until next time….
Sooke Health and Fitness
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