She is the Killer Queen. Her name is Rebecca and she is our deputy yoga instructor who stands in for Blanca once in a while.
Imagine Rebecca: She is not really tall, a little sturdy. She looks rather Asian – when I first met her, I thought she might be from Thailand. But this is not the only first perception which turns out to be untrue. Actually, she is from Mexico. All this does not really matter.
What might probably matter is the fact that she used to be a professional dancer. This could be the reason why she can do what she herself can do. But the way she is pushing us through the asanas makes you imagine her having been a boot camp instructor instead. A friendly one, though.
Imagine that you have spent the lion’s share of the course time in the push-up position already. This means little flames come out of your shoulders, and your smile starts turning a little exerted. And then Rebecca says things like this:
“Now you move your left knee towards your right elbow. Then you stretch it to the side. Keep the hips parallel. And now you open your chest to the other side and stretch the right arm to the ceiling. Try to see your left heel. And now you…” This is the moment I either tip over or pass out.
When I regain consciousness, Rebecca might just be saying something like: “And now you move your shoulder into the hollow of your knee. Then you slowly stretch your leg. Do you feel the deep stretch in the shoulder?” She says that with the sweetest possible smile, and when you look at her, you see: Yes, this is possible. But then you listen to your own body, and you clearly hear it say: No, this is not possible. But you look at her, and you hear: “And now, you push with your other leg and slowly move your upper body forward, until you naturally flow into balance on your hands. You see?”
Yes, I see, but I don’t believe it. This is magic, this is body control in perfection. And then everything blurs and… I have to give up.
Rebecca, you are my Killer Queen.
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