Lotus (Position) 1-2-3

It's 5 PM Friday. I'm self-conscious the moment I pull into the parking lot at the Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health in Lenox, Massachusetts. What is acceptable behavior from a guy who's committing to Yogic enlightenment and two days of deep relaxation? Should I bring in my laptop computer -- that ubiquitous symbol of the overworked workaday world - and risk instant censure? What about the Dunkin' Donuts dark roast I just picked up? Kripalu strongly discourages coffee consumption. So do I walk in alone, exposed, and anxiously undercaffeinated -- devoid of the things that rule and fuel my life the other 363 days of the year?

I know what I must do. I will embrace the moment and submit to the Kripalu Way. But first, I keep the car running and guzzle the coffee.

I'm not your average yoga practitioner. I'm skeptical of unconventional exercise and anything that smacks of New Age spirituality. I've long defined the worth of a fitness regimen by just how hard it makes my heart thump, my muscles scream. Of late, however, I've hit some speed bumps. A hard lunchtime run is still satisfying, but it doesn't always kickstart my head in the PM It feels more and more like an energy drain, not a gain. If you define a good workout as something that enhances your ability to handle all forms of stress, mine doesn't qualify.

My wife, Patty, suggested yoga. A Sanskrit term roughly meaning "yoke" and "union," its definition implies its healthful purpose: to unite the mind, body, and spirit. Its tools: breathing exercises, physical postures, and meditation. The major differences between the various forms of yoga are the sequence and time spent between (and in) various postures. One of the more kick-ass varieties, ashtanga, allows little to no recovery time between postures, which are held for long, sweat-generating counts.

Despite the stereotype, granola crunchers are not the only people who practice yoga. It's the core of progressive stress-management programs in the United States, the stuff of celebrity workout videos, and an aerobics-rivaling fitness staple at urban area YMCAs. Several NFL football teams and innumerable elite athletes employ it as part of a peak performance training package. It's even found its way into the U.S. military.

Kripalu, in the Berkshire Hills of western Massachusetts, is one of the largest yoga centers in the country and an increasingly popular weekend getaway for race-pace urban professionals. Some yoga spas tend to be on the lite side, emphasizing physical stretches and nothing else. With the Kripalu method, a conservative form of the traditional 5,000-year-old Hatha yoga, I'm assured I'm getting the real deal. In the handbook's solemn words, Kripalu is a practice of entering the sanctuary of the body to quiet the restlessness of the mind. They call it meditation in motion. Perfect.

5:15 PM Friday

I walk into Kripalu's hotel-like lobby. several faces instantly turn my way, their eyes buoyant, smiles warm, everything about them saying, "We're so glad you're here!" At the sign-up desk I'm formally welcomed by Andrew. Apparently, no one bothers with surnames. Elsewhere in the lobby there's lots of full-body hugging among returning alumni. Other well-aligned folks gaze out the south-facing picture windows, breathing into the mountain view with deep, rhythmic precision. Now I'm really nervous. Never has a weekend of wellness loomed more arduous.

7:15 PM

Our first yoga class. Shari, our 30-something head instructor, presents a challenge: breathing. Most people use just a fraction of their five-quart lung capacity, she says. Shallow breathing allows fatigue and stress to set in. We can do better.

"Snnnnnhhhhhh." Shari slowly inhales, her upper abdominal muscles and diaphragm tugging downward and drawing gobs of oxygen through her nose and into her lungs. Her exhalation is even slower and more exaggerated. She bids us to do the same. Contrary to conventional exercise, Yogic breathing, or Pranayama, accentuates the exhalation because it cleanses the lungs and speeds the elimination of toxins from the body. Another difference: during yoga postures, you breathe only through your nose.

My fellow neophytes in the 50-person class immediately experience problems. We either can't go deep, or we find ourselves panting in response to the anxiety-causing effort of being mindful about something as illusory as where our breath is at any given moment and whether it's tracking correctly on its organ-to-organ odyssey. Instead of subtracting anxieties, I've just added another: I don't even know how to breathe correctly.