Through the healthy initiative program at work, I was able to attend a free yoga class at this studio, along with a friend and her daughter. The studio was fairly small and was filled to capacity. I was at the back row along with two other ladies, while my friend and her daughter found a place for their mats in front of my row. We participants were right in the middle of moving from a plank position to the cobra, when the lady to my right let a huge one rip. Although I work in a kindergarten class, I tried to act mature and not like a kindergartener, unlike the kid at school who was accused of farting last week. All the poor kid kept saying was, “it wasn’t me! it wasn’t me!” as the accusatory fingers pointed his way. I too wanted to exclaim, “it wasn’t me! It wasn’t me!” All I could do was hope that nobody thought the “ghastly” noise was from moi.
I can’t say that I am a stranger to physical exertion flatulence (as I like to call it. Sounds so much more pleasant than fart, don’t you think?) When we execute a challenging move, at times a little tension is released in the form of gas. This was ever so evident in my cardio kick box class, where we were made to do burpees. Well, I wish it was a burp that was released from my body, but no. My saving grace was that music was blaring, as this is a class to get your body pumping, (no, not pumping you West Indian readers. For non-West Indian readers, pump=fart in many parts of the Caribbean.) But I digress, the pulsating and loud music masked the sound of my breaking wind in cardio kick box class. For this poor lady in Yoga, there was no masking to be had. You know that new age, soft, “clear your mind” music they play in Yoga. Yeah, not so good at fart-masking. It was loud, and not so proud.
So my humble advice if I may? If you happen to be a little gassy, never mind my dears. Flatulate and then continue to elongate. There is a good chance nobody heard you. And if they did? They are too busy thinking, “it wasn’t me, it wasn’t me….”