Air-obics just raise pressure at 50,000 feet
By Beth Teitell
Wednesday, July 14, 2004
I hate to be a wet blanket - or a wet Ashtanga mat - but has anyone studied the effects of second-hand yoga?
As if flying weren't already stressful enough, a growing number of airlines are adding yoga, Pilates, stretch bands and exercise videos to their in-flight perks.
I don't know about you, but I kind of long for the days when smoking was allowed - at least then you could feel superior to the nicotine-stained passenger wheezing in 5B.
But imagine spending 500 miles next to a person in the tree pose who's chanting ommmmmmmmall the way from Boston to Miami. Excuse me, but do you mind moving your ``branch'' off the armrest?
It's enough to make a person wish for deep-vein thrombosis.
Later this month, Song airlines plans to offer passengers the chance to work off those 730-calorie Cinnabons we're virtually forced to eat during the 90-minute check-in period. How else are you supposed to kill time?
For eight bucks, Song passengers will get an elastic band, a squeezable ball and a how-to manual, which I imagine might drop from a small compartment in the ceiling, oxygen mask-style. Please do your own workout first, and then help the person next to you to tone up.
Song is obviously playing catch up to JetBlue, which already offers ``Flying Pilates'' and ``Flying Yoga'' cards in the seatback pockets. Hey, when better to strengthen your core than while circling above Atlanta?
On Northwest and China airlines, you can watch in-cabin exercise videos. (Actually, watching isn't so bad - it's the expectation that you'll join in that gets me.)
All of the news stories I've read about the trend see the exercise programs as a way to lure fliers, but perhaps they're covert antiterrorism measures - sort of like a ``Don't mess with us, we're buff,'' approach.
Either way, imagine what flying will be like once the airborne fitness craze really gets going. The toddler in the row behind you will be kicking your seatback and pulling your hair, the person on your left - a non-reading couch potato - will be chewing your ear off, and the person on your right will be in constant motion, doing crunches, pulling on her stretchy band - ``Oops, sorry, I didn't mean to smack you in the face. I think we just went through some rough air . . .''
Or maybe they won't seat us slugs next to the aerobically virtuous. Maybe the old smoking sections will be reconfigured as airborne gyms.
This will help, but it won't eliminate the problem completely. Imagine nature calling at 50,000 feet - and the path to the bathroom cuts through a hot yoga class.
