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Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Another post about yoga: Hot Yoga and Me

A few months ago, I wrote a post about how I had started taking some yoga classes. Since then, I have been religiously attending hot yoga classes twice a week, and so I have a lot more to say about it. 

I take back everything I said about the tiny outfits

In my original yoga post, I said that it was kind of annoying to me that some people appeared to be trying to look cute by wearing little short shorts and cute matching sports bras to class. "There's nothing cute about hot yoga," I probably said.

But I have since changed my tune. I mean, while I still stand by the assertion that there is nothing cute about hot yoga (and I totally still wear my 80's sweatband to keep my sweaty bangs off my eyeballs) ... I am now one of those people. You know, the people who show up wearing the tiniest of tiny shorts and a cute matching sports bra.

"I'm just trying to be practical!"

See, here's the thing: I wore tiny shorts one day as an experiment, and it felt sooooo amazing. My body's whole "let's reduce our core temperature by sweating" thing was actually able to function properly instead of being thwarted by some stupid expensive sweat-wicking clothing that is basically a burqa. 

This is not an exaggeration at all. 100% completely accurate.

I have been converted to the "wear as little as possible" school of thought. I will never judge someone for dressing all skimpy ever again.

And if someone from my yoga class writes a blog where they complain about how some bitch with an ugly sweatband likes to show up to class wearing what is essentially a bikini, I can't even be mad because I get it. I show up to class dressed like Miley Cyrus, and that is annoying. 

But it's so comfortable. Like ... sooooooooo comfortable. At least I don't wear mascara, right?

You look hot.

The Light Within Me Reveres the Light Within You 
  ... except for you, Darth Vader warm-up guy

Here is how hot yoga classes at my studio work: you show up and sign in in the nice cool lobby. You drop your purse and your shoes etc in a cubby, and then when you're ready, you go into the hot room. 

Once you're in the hot room, it is to be silent meditation time. You pick a spot, set up your mat and towel, and just lie down on your back and mentally prepare yourself for class. Work on clearing your mind, forgetting about whatever annoying things happened that day, and just get yourself into the place you need to be mentally.

You know what makes it really friggin' hard to meditate and let go of annoyances? 


If you want to do some private warm-ups before class, feel free. Stretch, do crunches, do push-ups, whatever makes your heart happy. Just do them f***ing silently.

Darth Vader guy has shown up to several classes with me and it's so annoying I almost want to walk up and just kick him in the face. Unless you are on an actual respirator, don't ever breathe like Darth Vader. Like, ever.

Especially don't do it during silent meditation you f***ing jackass.

Yoga will give you some of the worst moments of your life

Camel pose. If you've ever done yoga -- especially HOT yoga, then you know what I'm talking about. Worst moment of my life.

"If you feel lightheaded and nauseous [which you 100% definitely do], that's a good thing! It's just your body ridding itself of toxins!" 
-- actual thing my yoga instructors say. I mean, really? I'm no expert, but ... really? Color me dubious.

I've also mentioned before that rolling up my mat at the end of class is one of the worst moments of my entire life. At that point, all I want is to get the f*** out of the hot room, so of course my mat conspires against me to make me bend over and squat and fiddle with it and get bloody furious. I end up rolling it all f***ed up and staggering out of the room like a drunken bachelorette. I don't even care.

Then, I leave the room and I'm in the lobby where it's cool. BLESSED DAY! I grab my purse and my sandals out of my cubby. I drop my sandals onto the floor.

And they land like this:


No, God, no. Why have you done this to me.

The amount of energy I have at this moment is zero. I cannot lean down to pick up the shoes.

So instead I try to use my foot to flip them into position, and it takes like five tries to get it properly and by the time I do, I'm so angry I could punch through a wall if I had the strength. Another worst moment of my life, handled.

Then I head out to the parking lot and hop into my car. Turn on that air conditioning, bitch! Woohoo!! Now I just need to back out of this parking spot! No problem -- just need to turn around and look out the back window ...

NOPE. I cannot achieve this position anymore. My body does not have that kind of capability. I just back out slow and blind and hope for the best.

If I'm lucky, maybe I'll run over Darth Vader guy!

Yoga will give you some of the best moments of your life

At the end of every Saturday morning class, one of the instructors reads to us from a book of yoga poems. One day, she read us one that actually brought a tear to my eye. I don't remember it exactly, but it went something like this:
I've never been to the Amazon, but I can imagine exactly how it would feel to wrap myself in a blanket of cool moss.
I've never met my ancestors, but I can clearly see them in my mind, walking down the cobblestoned streets of the past. 
I've never met my future self, but I can also see her clearly, living a life of purpose and accomplishment and joy.
We are all, every one of us, part of something so much larger than ourselves. Each a strand in the fabric that is all of time and space. No one lives alone, and no one dies alone.
We are never alone. Do not ever forget that. 

Namaste, motherf***ers. :-)

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