Om Yoga Magazine — February 2018

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Kristina Symons, 46, recalls her yoga teacher training – from manic phase to calm

phase – and how it has quite literally blown her mind

My Story...

“I

t will blow your mind!” My

yoga teacher’s words filled

me with dread. What was I

letting myself in for? I am a

very impulsive person. I make

decisions on a whim and worry about the

consequences afterwards. Truth be told,

I wasn’t even very good at yoga when I

foolishly enrolled on my teacher trainer

course. What was I thinking?

A few months prior to my signing up,

my osteopath had given me three choices

regarding my ongoing back injury: take

medication, live with back pain, or practice

yoga. The answer was simple. Yoga it was.

Back then, the thought of a yoga class

terrified me. I had spent a lifetime swimming,

sprinting and sweating myself into a frenzy.

Now, I was planning to spend a precious

hour doing what? Breathing? Should I buy

some of those funny flowy pantaloon things?

Should I have an Om tattoo covering my

right shoulder? What about a toe ring? At

least a thumb ring?

Yet my back pain was worsening, so I

forced myself to book a vinyasa flow class

at my local leisure centre. At the front of

the studio were young professionals, sweaty

from the gym, sporting designer crop tops

and at the back were the earthy, hippy

types, weirdly carrying their own mats. I was

bemused by this. What was wrong with the

mats in the corner of the room? When a man

in red lycra underpants and matching vest

came in carrying a wheel, I almost died. Had

he lost his way to the circus?

Luckily, the instructor was normal. Lovely,

smiley, welcoming and normal Amanda

came in and I felt okay. The class was fine.

Absolutely fine. And I noticed that after

just a few classes, my back pain began

to subside. This yoga thing was okay, not

overwhelming, quite relaxing and a good

opportunity to stretch my back. On nothing

more than an impulse, I had an idea. I would

do a teacher training course and refine my

yoga practice. I signed up to a 200-hour,

12-month course.

That is yoga

Then those words filled me with dread. “It

will blow your mind”. What did that mean?

What if the other trainees were gymnasts and

ballerinas? What if they could do the splits and

handless headstands? Surely at the age of 46,

I would be the only oldie carrying an injury. My

heart was sinking. I would look a fool.