Back in June, the middle of August sounded like a lifetime away. I figured if I could make it 'til then, I'd have made it through Summer '12, so I signed up for water yoga as a desperate attempt to fake myself out. No other plans out there, really. Just water yoga. I thought I'd pretend I was in La Jolla, maybe, splashing around. But class didn't turn out half bad. Camelback Mountain right there at the not quite churchy, more kumbaya, sort of campy with a bit of a rehab "Casa" feeling place. Susan, the yogi guru, led us with an always good bit of wisdom for the low maintenance crowd as we stretched, pushed, pulled and then, on this last night of class, noodled up for some floating-in-the-dark meditation on this cloud-packed-sort-of-chilly-screw-La-Jolla-it-feels-like-Fall-tonight-in-Paradise (Valley). And it worked. Now that's using your noodle.
Next up not in the pool - World Day of Peace 9/21
Yoga in the grass - Thursdays in October
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