Celebrity Yoga

With the New Year upon us, many are embarking on a wellness journey, enrolling in fitness classes and eating healthier to kick start ourselves into what society convinces us will be a “healthier you”. One of my favorite things to do is yoga- particularly hot yoga. I joke that I cannot stand to be without the dense humidity of the South for one minute, so I have to find it in all areas of my life. The truth is, I love the feeling of sweating out all the harsh toxins I absorb on the regular while stretching out my aging bones and muscles. For me, it works miracles, but to each his own.

Now, living in Nashville, it is not uncommon to run into a celebrity every now and then. My husband jokes that I am a magnet for them. I usually see an athlete, or some country artist at the grocery store, the local Walgreens, or even school events, but for whatever reason, those celebrities don’t seem to faze me. I tend to let them be and quietly support their success from a distance, or I naively attempt to connect with them on a very basic level. I once genuinely tried to set up a model in my Pilates class with a dear friend of mine. She politely declined, and I later found out she was happily dating one of the country’s top hockey players. Clearly, my friend’s studio apartment and incredible dance moves were not going to be a match for an attractive All Star hockey player with a three million dollar a year salary. To my defense, I don’t follow hockey. How was I to know she was spoken for by such a catch?

As I tend to have the “celebrities are people just like us” attitude, there have been a couple of times when I was completely star struck. I mean awkward star struck. And these instances just so happened to be during one of my yoga classes.

Let me first explain that when I get a chance to go to yoga, it is a complete and utter treat. As a busy working mother of two very active children, an hour of Zen to myself is like hitting the Powerball. It is a rare hour where don’t have to think about any responsibility, and I can simply enjoy the flow. Now, the first encounter happened a couple of years ago. I had enrolled in a Saturday morning class at a yoga studio down the street from me. I had arrived a few minutes early and was busy relaxing on my yoga mat. As the instructor arrived and began to light her incense candle, I opened my eyes and sat myself to an upright, seated position in the middle of my mat. It was then when I noticed a late arrival had positioned herself right next to me as I was relaxing. And not too long after, I realized that Nicole Kidman was the late arrival.

Now, I had seen Nicole in passing a few times before- at the Starbucks and interestingly enough at the local YMCA, but at this point, she was so close to me that if she sneezed, I would have to wipe my shoulder off. The next sixty minutes were pointless for me. I couldn’t relax a bit. I was extremely self-conscious as I did my down dogs and sun salutations. I couldn’t stay on track. Instead, my mind was filled with thoughts such as, “Do I look like a total idiot doing this twisted whatever it’s called? I should have gotten a pedicure. I bet Nicole is completely appalled at my chipped polish that should have been changed weeks ago. I wonder if she can even go get pedicures. No, you idiot! Pedicures come to her. What was Tom really like? I wonder what she thought about all that couch jumping. Is scientology really scary?” My thoughts raced. It was the worst yoga practice I had ever done. At one point, I almost fell on top of the gorgeous Oscar winner will attempting a simple tree move. How embarrassing.

The second time I was completely star struck was just a couple of months ago. It was a Friday night, and I had enrolled in a hot yoga class at my very favorite studio in town. (Friday nights have clearly changed in my world). I got the kids settled in with their dad and took off to wrap my week up with an hour of humid, Zen flow. As usual, I arrived a few minutes early and decided to settle in on my mat in order to get my body adjusted to the 105 degrees. My first few drips of sweat started to form as I sprawled out on my mat, eyes closed, attempting to breath at a slow and steady rate. I could hear footprints walk past me and I gently cracked open one eye to catch a peek of who it was. I innocently thought to myself as I caught a glimpse of the older gentlemen walking past me, “Wow. That guy is very attractive for someone older.” I paused. “Wow. That guy is Jon Bon Jovi.”

I looked around at the other class attendees to see if there was any inclination that someone other than me noticed the iconic eighties hair band lead singer enter our presence. It was very clear and apparent from the body language of the room that everyone was silently freaking out. Jon found himself a spot in the far corner, as far away from the commoners as possible (I don’t blame him), and began to stretch as if it were completely normal that he had joined us.

The instructor entered the room. I wondered if she would make an announcement, greeting our new guest. Sometimes they will ask if anyone is new to class before it starts. Neither happened, and our flow began as if everything was normal. Again, like the Nicole Kidman yoga, I couldn’t concentrate. My head was this time filled with, “I cannot wait to call Tatum (my childhood friend who had a Jon Bon Jovi poster in her room during our elementary days). How does he have such little body fat? Isn’t he like sixty? I wonder if he will keep that shirt on the entire time. His hair is really grayer than I thought. What would he do if the instructor just happened to have “Living on a Prayer” on their playlist? What is he doing in Nashville? Did he bring his family? Don’t make eye contact in the mirror.” Again, my hour of relaxation was a bust. My racing thoughts kept me from loosening up, but I made it through.

After our class Namaste and final poses, I made my way to the exit door of the classroom. Since the studio makes you leave your shoes outside the door, at the top of the stairs in a small awkward space due to covid policies (This still does not make sense to me. Bare feet do not spread covid.), I fumbled for a while with my wobbly, dehydrated legs. As I got my final flip flop on, I turned slightly to the right, and realized that Jon was at my back, patiently waiting for me to get myself together. And instead of naturally turning around to my original position, I continued to turn to him, and spun myself in an entirely unnecessary circle. Just me and Jon at the top of the stairs. And just me spinning around while he looked at me like I had lost my damn mind. Awkward.

In conclusion, I have made the observation that in larger cities with heavy celebrity populations, there may be a niche with something called Celebrity Yoga or the Work out Center to the Stars. This way, these celebrities can go and work out just like the normal people and not have to be bothered by the uncomfortable stares or single spin moves. For the normal people, we can just enjoy our moments of Zen without having to worry about how silly or crazy we are acting. Just a thought for anyone looking for new business ventures. Who knows? Maybe they are out there already, and I’m not hip enough to be in the know. And, in the meantime, keep your eyes open the next time you are in a workout class. You never know who you could be down dogging next to and the way to a better you.

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