Tag Archives: 60 minutes


2005, $2.99 (in the original shrink wrapper!), at Goodwill on San Fernando in Glendale

First Impression: “Yoga is a sport.”

Second Impression: Well, if my high school’s chess team had varsity jackets, anything is possible.

“No chanting. No granola. No Sanskrit,” declares the front cover, as if to emphasize the message that yoga is, in fact, for athletes. I find that last statement rather xenophobic.  Yoga originates from India, after all. Is it that surprising that the poses would have Sanskrit names?  And why would that be off-putting to athletes?

Full of questions, I click through the biography of the instructor, Kimberly Fowler.  

Apparently, she’s been run over by a car, defeated an inoperable tumor, and fallen off a mountain, crediting the power of yoga for helping her through each experience. All this, and she still won’t allow herself to eat a bowl of granola. Look, I know it’s full of sugar, and it’s not really a health food, but… crunchy goodness!

Kimberly leads the workout in a brick room that could either be a really crummy industrial building, or an overpriced loft apartment.

One of her students must be an undercover agent, recording surveillance footage through a camera hidden in a gym bag:

We start with some nice relaxing low-back stretches, but I can’t help but wonder…why are they watching her? What did Kimberly do, besides survive three near-death experiences by stretching, breathing, and refusing to speak Sanskrit? This workout is an enigma wrapped in a conundrum. 

We get on our feet for Warrior Pose, and my House Panther begins to yell at me. He flops on my yoga mat, completing exactly one ab crunch.

Oh look, Angel’s in this class. 

Vampires are athletes, you know.

Like most yoga classes, the first 20 minutes of this workout are basically a Salute to the Sun, but Kimberly would never call it that, because this is for athletes and it might embarrass them.

We move into a Side Plank.

Okay, can we talk about the zombie that is clawing its way into the class? No latecomers, that’s the rule! “Yoga is for zombies, too,” they intone, shuffling to their mats.

Likewise, whatever undead creature this is:

Let’s review. Yoga is for athletes, pampered housecats, sexy vampire detectives, reanimated corpses, and very flexible demons. And YOU!