Yoga for Regular Guys: The Best Damn Workout on the Planet!

about fifteen minutes of trying not to laugh, I realize this ain’t exactly what I thought it was. This shit is
difficult
… seriously. Pretty soon, I wasn’t laughing anymore. I was
feeling the burn
, as they say. I’m trying to activate muscles that have been in a coma for well … well, forever, really.
    To make a long story short, Yoga for Regular Guys
works
, and trust me, it ain’t what you think. It’s a total body, kick-ass workout that whips you into shape. Think of it as yoga meets old school calisthenics by way of slow burn isometric movements. Translation: something fun to kick that flabby-ass body of yours into shape! Let’s face it folks, DDP is the new Jack LaLanne for the hardcore, cynical, regular-guy “I’m-too-cool-for-that” generation. Here’s my advice to you: Put down the doughnuts, pick up this book, and get with the YRG program … or else!
    —ROB ZOMBIE
Los Angeles, California

I N T R O D U C T I O N
WHO IS THE REGULAR GUY?
    If you picked this book up, you’re most likely one of them. Or else you’re close enough to one to know that the only yoga book you’ll ever get him to read would be written by a pro wrestler. Regular Guys are everywhere: They’re athletes, CEOs, cops, firemen, construction workers, bartenders, and lawyers; well, I may need to get back to you on lawyers, but I think you get the point.

YOGA FOR REGULAR GUYS … YOU’RE KIDDING, RIGHT?

    Ask a Regular Guy if he does yoga, and he’ll probably say, “I wouldn’t be caught
dead
doing that crap—it’s for girls.”
    I know, because that was my exact response when I was first introduced to yoga six years ago. If at any point in my life someone told me that I’d be writing a book about the benefits of yoga, I would have said, “I’m sorry. You must have me confused with another six-foot-four-inch, two-hundred-thirty-five-pound pro wrestler who beats people up with steel folding chairs.” (Incidentally, in case you don’t know me, I’m a professional wrestler, not a chaplain in a funeral home.)
    So whatever made me, DDP, try yoga? Well, at the age of forty-two, the doctors said my professional wrestling career was over. I was on the top of the world at that time, in one main event after the other. But in 1998 I ruptured my L4/L5 disc so badly that I lost just about all flexibility in my lower back. I could barely bend over, never mind wrestle. You can say what you want about professional wrestling, but when it comes to getting bounced around in the ring, you can’t
fake
gravity.
    I remember that night like it was last night. I was battling the NWO (New World Order), and my opponent was Kevin Nash (6’10", 335 lbs.). The problem with facing the NWO was, you didn’t just face one of them—you faced
all
of them. Near the end of the match, Scott Hall (6’6", 285 lbs.) rolled into the ring and blastedme with the World Championship title belt. Then Kevin picked me up on his shoulders like I was a child and power-bombed me flat down on my back for the win—dirty cheatin’ bastards.
    When I hit the mat, my body jackknifed, and it felt like my spine had broken in half. Nash didn’t mean to hurt me; it’s not like we were playing checkers out there. He actually laid me out as flat as he ever had, but this time, it hurt like hell. It wasn’t just that fall; it was an accumulation of all the falls I had taken in the ring over the years, like the one I just described, along with years of getting splattered by guitars, steel chairs, and garbage cans, that finally caught up with me.
    You see, even though most athletes retire in their mid- to late thirties, I didn’t get into the ring until I was thirty-five, and at forty-two, I was just hitting my stride. This Regular Guy was pretty bummed out.
    But one day, while I was laid up in bed with my back injury, I noticed my wife, Kimberly, coming upstairs from one of her workouts. She was absolutely soaked in sweat. When she told me she was practicing yoga, I thought for sure she was pulling my leg. But she insisted that yoga sessions offered her a great physical workout, and also simply made her feel rejuvenated. She was absolutely certain that yoga could help me rehabilitate my back, and she asked me to start practicing with her.
    Aside from the obvious worry of my buddies finding out I was off looking like Grasshopper in
Kung Fu,
I was concerned that yoga could worsen my condition. However, Kimberly convinced me that, because I was injured, I could work at