Oh, Yoga, How Do I Describe Thee?
That is about the extent of my poetry skills, ya like?
My hot yoga journey began in 2010 after my first stint of sobriety. I was 32 years old, fresh out of rehab, and looking for any way to improve myself.
Exercise wasn’t a part of my life because I was too busy having fun. With all this extra time on my hands and the desire to treat my body properly, I decided to take a class with a friend to check it out.
She had been raving about it and I wanted to see what it was all about.
The nerves came rushing in while I was on my way to the studio. This friend of mine said she would meet me there, but when I got to the lobby, she was nowhere to be found.
Maybe she is in the yoga room? I proceeded to check in but was disappointed when I didn’t find her inside.
Immediately I am sweating and unsure of what to do. I look around and copy what everyone else is doing with their yoga mats. They all lay a nice yoga towel down that fits the size of their yoga mats.
Me? I have a dumb, giant beach towel that is way too big for my yoga mat. I might as well have a big “B” for beginners written on my forehead.
My friend ghosts me and never shows up. The teacher walks in and class is about to start. If you’ve ever taken a hot yoga class, you know that you are advised to not leave the class once it begins.
Your body needs to adapt to the heat. Leaving when you are overheated and walking into a cold room can be a shock to the system.
Hot yoga is intense. Nausea came over me and there were a few times that I was too dizzy to stay standing. Somehow I managed to make it through the class, taking a few breaks in child’s pose, but my ego was too big to stay there for long.
Then, came the glorious ending of class, savasana. The meditation began and the teacher came by to rub my temples and massage my shoulders.