Yoga real stretch for most guys

Pete looked me in the eye, pointed, and said: “I know this isn’t very yoga-like, but I’m going to kick your (expletive) today.”

It was my first time at yoga class, so I wasn’t exactly sure how this was supposed to work. But I was pretty sure most yoga classes didn’t involve cursing and trash-talking, let alone pointing.

Still, I decided to stay seated on my little mat, knowing I was going to kick the (expletive) out of Pete’s balasana pose and send him crying into a downward dog.

I wasn’t expecting to run into someone I knew at yoga class, let alone my friend Pete. It was 11 a.m. on a Saturday, and seeing Pete in daylight – and at a place that doesn’t serve alcohol – was a unique experience.

Pete’s reaction to seeing me was understandable. It illustrated what yoga is like for men, or at least men, like me, who are slightly insecure about doing yoga in the first place.

Some men don’t understand physical activity unless it involves trash-talking and, ultimately, competition. Because we don’t see the point in doing an activity – or even getting off the couch and going outside – if there’s nothing to actually be gained by doing it.

Certain people would view this as backward and simple-minded, or just stupid. But these people would be wrong.

Men have spent their entire lives doing physical activities for the purpose of some goal: hunting to kill dinner, fighting to gain property, scoring to win a game, and throwing a dodgeball in third grade to settle a score with that fifth-grade punk who knocked you down the stairs one day after school, causing the glass jar holding your science project to shatter on the ground, cut your hand and knock off your glasses.

But that’s only half of it. The real, real reason why men don’t do yoga is because, like childbirth, women are much, much better at it than we are. Physiologically, women are just better stretchers. And American men don’t like when women are better than them at things.

Following the lead of gay men, straight men started doing yoga because straight men go wherever large numbers of women go. Men wouldn’t go to yoga class if the “I’m gonna pick up chicks at yoga class” thought had never crossed their mind.

But then there’s men, like myself and Pete, who are also at yoga class for women – our girlfriends. They are much better than we are at doing things that don’t involve winning.

Because beyond physical, mental and spiritual well-being, there’s nothing to “gain” in yoga: No trophy. No champagne in the locker room. No high-fives. No SportsCenter highlights.

In yoga, the challenge is just doing better than you did last time. Other than that, you’re supposed to be calm, relax and concentrate on your breathing. It’s like swimming, except harder.

A lot harder. Yoga feels less like stretching and more like running a marathon. It can be an intense, strenuous workout, contrary to what men might think. During my first class I squinted and gritted my teeth to try to make it through the pain, growling softly and holding back tears.

That’s when the teacher, a 4-foot-11-inch redhead who could pick me up and toss me across the room while doing a handstand, crouched next to me.

“This isn’t supposed to hurt,” she said. “Yoga is gradual.”

I was confused.

“Let’s try doing it without making the faces.”

Easy for her to say. Later in the class, the redhead crouched next to me as I attempted, quite hilariously, to do a handstand against the mirror. “Do you want me to help you up?” she asked.

“OK,” I shrugged, sheepishly.

“Do you wanna go down now?” she asked, seconds later.

“Yes,” I whimpered, pathetically.

After my third class, I asked the only other guy there why he thought men weren’t into yoga.

He said if guys knew about the last part of class – when we spend 10 minutes lying down in silence – then more men would be into it.

“It’s like taking a nap,” he said. “It’s perfect for us.”