Stretch: The Unlikely Making of a Yoga Dude Paperback – August 10, 2010

Allow me to start off by saying that I'm one of the (apparently few) 40-year-old women on Earth who could not get through "Eat Pray Love." I've only realy done anything resembling Yoga on the Wii Fit. If anybody else had written this book, I doubt I'd read it... but Neal Pollack is painfully honest about his journey into yoga, and though he is trying to find his best self, he never loses his bite. I'd recommend this book to anyone who thinks that yoga is delegated either to wealthy soccer moms or that patchouli-smelling barefoot guy who had a vitamin store in the 70s. And to anyone who has reached, gone through, or even thought about having any kind of personal identity crisis.In "Stretch," Pollack embarks on an early-midlife crisis after a literary reviewer makes a crass comment about his appearance. He doesn't have a "lighting bolt" turnaround; none of what he's going through is easy (emotionally or physically), but he's also upfront about the fact that his suffering is on a relative scale.This is not a book about how someone overcame a great outside obstacle (traumatic disability, violence, force of nature), but how he took on a very personal crisis. I love that Pollack is so honest about how some teachers and methods really appealed to him, and some did not -- and that he was brave enough to try a little bit of everything he could to develop his own approaches. He reveals throughout the book how his wife both supported his search and sometimes was the voice of reason for him. And I think that the fact that he did go on this personal journey will make him a better teacher, because in sharing his own trials and tribulations, he will be more able to relate to those of others.Witty, touching, and very down-to-earth for a book that's really about a spiritual journey, "Stretch" won't force you into studying yoga, but don't be surprised if you start downloading Michael Franti and standing a little taller after reading it.

Crude, snarky, and self-deprecating, this book will make you laugh out loud while illuminating the earnestness and pretentiousness of the Los Angeles yoga subculture. Witness the author's style with this snippet about attending a yoga class:Everyone was going around and sharing what was "sacred" to them ... Most things I found sacred, like marijuana, masturbating to Internet porn, and eating variety meats, simply weren't going to go over well during an 8 am Saturday circle ceremony.I'll be honest: not a whole lot happens in this book. Certainly, it lacks car chases and gun battles. However, If you are looking for a light, engaging tale of a "doughy 35 year-old white" dude's exploration into yoga give Stretch a shot.

Neal Pollack's humor tends toward the snarky, with a very sharp eye for the foibles of contemporary culture. After getting trashed by a New York Times book review for looking doughy and having thinning hair, he experiences a bit of personal crisis. He's no Saint Augustine, and the depths of his angst are toward the shallow end of the pool. He starts doing yoga at a 24 hour fitness center, and discovers that he likes it and it seems to do something a bit more worthwhile than tone his abs. He begins to suspect that yoga might help him reconnect with his best self, an entity which he hasn't seen since his less sophisticated youth, before becoming an edgy writer.Along the way, he explores many of the wacky and creative versions of yoga in the United States, including an overly severe vegan style in New York, and yoga rave music. He settles on a more traditional school, ashtanga, and eventually studies with a serious, renowned teacher overseas. His humor is often funniest, though, when it's turned on himself, including some silly but entertaining sessions with a chiropractor, problems with barfing, and the mandatory flatulence-at-yoga scene.Pollack has a keen eye for the American yoga scene and understands well the different schools of yoga study and practice. We root for him as he stumbles on his enlightenment road, although he never seems to recognize that doing marijuana through a vaporizer is probably not auspicious practice. Namaste, Neal.

I enjoy reading biographies of all types, and being a yoga practitioner I enjoy reading about people's journey on their yogic path. However this one missed the mark for me completely. Describing masturbating to internet porn as one of his sacred tasks, being stoned and drunk all the time, and the absolutely distasteful way he relates to and talks about his wife left me cold to say the least. I lost track of the number of times he referred to a female yoga teacher or fellow student as a "hot yoga babe" or some variation thereof. He is a sexist and completely self centered as far as I can tell. And his "tongue in cheek" sense of humor was not funny to me in the least. However I am giving him the benefit of the doubt with the three stars. I am guessing he wrote this tasteless tome to speak directly to a population that desperately needs the story - namely his cohort, the average American male. I am guessing (hoping) his sleazy, sexist approach to this sacred journey was purposefully directed to those who can relate to that writing method. Hopefully, he is correct and the story will speak to those who communicate in like terms and think and act in such a manner. They certainly need it.