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Bio
Media/Press
Newsweek
February 3, 1992
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Om Is Where the Heart Is
Fed up with aerobics,
the boomers turn to yoga
The name of the gym is CRUNCH. But on these mats, students are exploring something decidedly
uncrunchy: gain with no pain. Yoga instructor Noll Daniel has set out candles and a vase with
fresh flowers. Where once was heard the throbbing beat of C&C Music Factory's "(Gonna Make You) Sweat," New Age woodwinds now reign.
Daniel does not "Om" alone. Yoga classes are in demand at urban health clubs across the country, and longstanding yoga studios
in New York, Chicago and California report sharp rises in attendance in the past year. The Berkeley-based Yoga Journal
has nearly doubled its circulation over the past five years, and such high-profile practitoners of the 6000-year old
art as Kareem Abdul Jabbar and Raquel Welch (whose exercise videos are yoga heavy) have only brought it more attention.
"It's gone from the 'way out' to the everyday person," says Jake Jacobson, founder of L.A.'s 1,200-student Center for Yoga,
whose clients range from actresses to graphic artists to construction workers. "We're moving from the perception that yoga is an esoteric, far-out
type of religious activity to what it really is: a practice that is both mental and physical."
Why is yoga on the rise? Because stress is, too. These aren't flower children on the mats.
In the '80's, young urban professionals complemented their go-go lifestyles with health-club memberships:
they carried their competitive edge into aerobics and sweaty weight work. It brought thinner thighs but
little relief from daily pressures. Says yoga student Christina Pearsall, a 28-year-old New York court stenographer,
"I was so stressed out from work that it was just more jarring to jump around to house music in an aerobics class."
But with the new decade came new fears: many who thought their fast-paced careers were stressful now face the prospect
of pink slips and know what stress really is. So they decided to relax. Stretch, Concentrate on their breathing.
Not that this path to enlightenment is a total slothfest. "after my Monday-night class, there's
a pool of sweat around everybody in the room," Jacobson boasts. "It's hard ass work." Clubs on both coasts now offer
what's generally called "Urban Yoga," which combines yoga stretches with strenuous, slow calisthenics and balancing
routines. "People may think if they're feeling lazy, they can go to yoga class," says Daniel.
"Boy, are they surprised." For many of the converts, practicing yoga is also a way of admitting that they aren't kids anymore. Daniel, 37,
says hard-core aerobics had given him shin splints and knee trouble - "Then I saw a yoga class and I was hooked."
"Ultimately, yoga is gaining popularity because it feels good. Or maybe better than good. "I leave feeling
like I'm on drugs," one student says. Others are finding a different kind of high: spiritual elevation.
Lora Holbrook, a 38-year-old yoga teacher at the New York Sports Club, says that at first,
"I thought, this is a health club - people don't come here to think about their spirit." She was pleased to find her
students readily took to the traditional. "Om" chant before and after class withoug giggling. So get
ready for the yoga slogan of the '90s: No paean, no gain.
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