Sitting is the new smoking declared the article I idly stumbled across while munching al desko last week. Shifting uncomfortably, I totted up the alarming number of daily hours I spend installed on my office chair and sofa. Guilt-tripped out of my stationary habits, the prospect of a yoga rave (two words I thought I’d never see together) piqued my interest. Would it inject new life into sombre sun salutations and doleful downward dogs? I went along to find out.
Indra Kubicek Yoga Rave
Greeted by the dream team of trim and toned yogis, I self-consciously skulk to the back of the room in my baggy T-shirt and ancient leggings. Awakening my creaking, desk-addled limbs, the class kicks off with vigorous shaking and stretching exercises, before we move on to the partner yoga session.
Indra Kubicek Yoga Rave
Set to an aspirational Rocky soundtrack, arms and legs lock together as we stretch to the ceiling and shimmy down to the floor. Gaining confidence, we grab hold of each other’s hands as our feet grip together in a painstaking ascent, before tackling the double downward dog below. Jolted out of our initial awkwardness, the sense of connection and achievement is exhilarating.
Yoga Rave
With a change in instructor, the tempo moves up a gear as jungle beats warn of danger ahead. In a state of awe, our eyes follow the shimmering gold leggings as they scale walls, circumvent floors and spin through the air in a seamless sequence culminating in
the herculean arm balance below. Dazed and daunted, I clamour to keep up with the pace as my groaning limbs protest from months of inaction. Panting and puffing while battling foot cramp, the session mercifully segues into a freestyle reprieve where we’re each allowed to do our own thing for a five minute breather.
Indra Kubicek Yoga Rave
As a novel touch, special requests for favourite postures and sound-tracks are delivered to the DJ. Arching our backs, the upbeat rhythms of E.L.O.’s Mr Blue Skies raise us to new heights during the cobra pose.
Indra Kubicek Yoga Rave
With the evening’s exertions finally over, we sink onto our mats for five blissful minutes of deep breathing and guided meditation. Bathed in the healing reverberations of the gong bath, my muscles ache with the sweet, virtuous pain of a gruelling work-out. Enjoying a guilt-free seat on the tube home, I decide I may even depart my desk for a swift downward dog or two between meetings tomorrow.
(Many thanks to Indra from OmExchange for kindly supplying the photos.)
The next yoga rave takes place on the 28th April at the Proud Archivist, Reliance Wharf,
2-10 Hertford Road, London, N1 5ET.
What new thing will you try this week after work?