Happy anniversary to my loving parents, Mom and Dad. 38 years of marriage today, my father tells me. Somehow, I forget their anniverary every year. Luckily I happened to call home today and my father reminded me. I am a bad, bad daughter. Love you guys. 🙂
Okay I’m back. Rather than tease you with recent life antecdotes, I figured I’d actually share one with you. Throw you a bone.
A few months ago, a friend of mine convinced me to try hot yoga. She has been raving about hot yoga for years, and she has the body to prove that it works. So I figured that I have to at least try it out. Free classes for a week, how can you pass it up? So there I found myself – in a hot yoga class.
Has anyone been to hot yoga, or bikram for that matter? They differ. Hot yoga, as far as I understand it, consists of a series of somewhat intense yoga poses in a crowded room in the 90-99 degree range. Pleasant. Bikram, as far as I am aware, is a series of the same 23 or so poses (not as intense), yet the room is between 100 to 110 degrees. You may as well just kill me on the spot.
So I’ve never done Bikram. At some point, if I want to kill myself on the spot, maybe I’ll try it out for kicks. Hot yoga, however, I did try. And while I wasn’t dead on the spot, I was very close to it.
For anyone who knows me, they may know that I hate sweating. And I sweat a lot. I’m really not sure what made me think I should give hot yoga a chance, knowing this little tidbit of information. Even just walking into the classroom, I was immediately miserable. It was hot! 98 degrees hot! Hoping the class would not be too intense, I stuck it out. But boy was I tempted to leave the room after about five minutes.
5 minutes into the session, I’m already dripping wet. After about ten minutes, sweat is literally pouring off of me and my clothes are soaked. Good thing I had a towel under me because otherwise I’d have been slipping and sliding all over my mat. The thing is, I sweat so much, that I was still slipping and sliding on the towel. Pointless.
So this studio has packed in the people. Have you ever been to those yoga studios that let so many people into the class that you are literally on top of one another? It’s unpleasant in a regular yoga class, nevermind a hot yoga class. So just picture us doing our poses in 98 degree heat, sweating our balls off. We’re so close to one another that as we are doing the poses, I realize that I have somehow moved up and am now perched above my friends mat…which would be no big deal except that sweat is pouring off of me and onto her mat. But no worries – it all blends together.
As illustrated in the previous paragraph, these mats are close. While moving through a vinyasa, I believe it was into ‘wild thing’ (side plank into backbend), I swung my foot back and mistakenly kicked the girl behind me in the face. I kid you not. I kicked her in the face. Being on the verge of delirium, my gut reaction was to laugh. However, when I looked back to apologize, the girl gave me the glare of death. Apparently, she was as miserable as I. I obviously felt bad and did not mean to kick her in the face, but she was not in the least bit amused. Every few minutes I’d look back, and the chick was still glaring at me. What can I say – I make friends wherever I go.
After 1.5 hours of pure misery, we were granted access to the outside world. I emerged broken, withdrawn, and soaking wet. Which made for a very enjoyable ride home on the metro. And needless to say, my entire body was incredibly sore for the rest of the week. So while the 1.5 hours of class was pure misery at the time, it clearly works to a certain extent. Regardless, I will never subject myself to that again.