From tutus to yoga mats.

Author:Cramer, Maggie
Position:The roots of the matter

I remember my very first dance performance clearly: I was a bluebird in Snow White--the head bluebird, mind you. I came out from behind the wings, 15 fellow bluebirds following me, my arms flying and my legs dancing a zigzag pattern over to Snow White. I tapped her on the shoulder, did a couple points of the toe, and flew off stage with a flourish. It was brilliant; I knew I'd be a soloist for Joffrey one day. Dance was my life.

And, for a while, I stayed on that path. Recital after recital. I stuck myself in the thick of things. Sat front row when Baryshnikov and Twyla Tharp came to town. Went backstage and shook Baryshnikov's hand while the underbelly of the theater was abuzz with people shouting "Clear the ways!" Twyla had injured her ankle. Was it twisted? Broken? I needed someone to pinch me, as surely I was dreaming.

But, then, I traded my tutu for pompoms. After that came the high school years, during which the only movement I performed was the turning of my new steering wheel. I wasn't much better in college; braving the streets of Boston without my trusty Saab, I decided walking everywhere in the snow and rain was quite enough movement for me, thank you.

Alas, here I am in Asheville, and I have, of course, now taken to yoga. Admittedly though, after my first yoga class where I felt a bit intimidated by performing the tricky moves in public, you're more likely to catch me practicing in the privacy of my own home. Which is why I'm happy to include our feature "Yoga on the Go" on page 12 and only wished I would have known I could receive yoga's benefits while studying for an exam or waiting...

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