Other girls had Barbie’s fantastically plastic figure to give them bizarre notions of the ideal female.

I had Denise Austin.

Oh, I wasn’t put off by her flat abs and perfectly muscular “yoga body”: she looks great, and I admire her commitment to fitness! No, it was the disturbingly enthusiastic voice she used to encourage me and my family to “feel the burn!” because we are all “lean, mean, and serene!” that haunted me as a child.

Although nothing about Denise’s pep could never be quite as scary as the eerie wide-eyed grin plastered all over the face of that one lonely dude. Seriously, this show has the girls:guys ratio of your average art history class.

Yesterday evening, however, a friend and I made a last-minute decision to drop by Cornell’s Inspired Level I yoga session, which marked the first time I’d attended a real, grown-up yoga class that wasn’t led by my favorite fat-blasting fitness expert.

I say “grown-up,” of course, because another quintessential part of my childhood was my family’s much-beloved “Yoga Kids” VHS tape.

I miss the good ol’ days back when life was an easy, fun-filled adventure involving healthy exercise, learning activities, a love of nature, and matching neon tanks/bicycle shorts sets.

A cheerful romp set on the banks of some Mainland lake featuring wee tykes singing “Namaste” to each other, “Yoga Kids” proved to be surprisingly accurate in its introduction of the various poses. As I “breathed” my way through an assortment of interesting stretching positions in the Helen Newman yoga studio, I found myself remembering exactly how to comfortably fall into an up-dog or mountain pose (although I somehow resisted the urge to, as the yoga kids encourage, “woof like a puppy” or “explode like a volcano”).

Don’t get me wrong: I’ll always be a Zumba girl at heart, and will continue to get my groove on at least twice a week in cardio-dance-land. Still, there was just something amazingly appealing about last night’s hour of yoga: afterwards, I felt rested, empowered, and (shockingly, for me) sorta at peace. Perhaps it should become a habit–I’m sure some inner peace would be useful with my two prelims looming next week.

Or maybe I should just get Ms. Austin to give me a pre-prelims pep talk instead…

“Keep writing that short essay question! Don’t let pain in your hand stop you! Feel the BURN! You’re on your way to a beautiful, muscular wrist and an A+!”