Recently, I taught yoga to a group of competitive male athletes.
This was a treat because they were all about the same age (early 20s) with similar complaints (tight hamstrings, glutes, shoulders, and calves). Unlike a more mixed level/mixed age class, I could better plan around their universal needs.
Then they threw me a curve ball. A few of the braver, more vocal men said, “Nothing too hard,” a comment that contradicted my ideas of big, strong, sweaty guys wanting an equally big, strong, sweaty guy workout. “Their legs are going to be pretty sore,” the coach explained. Still, my first ideas were to throw in some standing revolved twists, something that would pull the sweat from their pores.
When they groaned on the first move, urdva hastasana (upward salute), I knew that, unlike my general population classes, these guys really needed to take it easy, even though they could do anything I gave them.
After a few slow sun salutes and warriors, we came to the ground for back bending, twists, and forward bending.
When we got to savasana, I was sad I’d given them only three minutes. These poor overachieving guys were tired, not just from their sport but from the mindset of excellence.
In my opinion, savasana is the hardest pose of all. The heart of our practice — which differs day-to-day — is how/if we allow that movement into stillness.
Some people need the hard workout as permission to lie down. Others could go right to it. In listening to the breath, we movers monitor ourselves against “too much.”