Hot yoga

Nobody told me hot yoga was code for torture. Every muscle in my body aches and I’ve only been four times. Granted 4 times in the last 6 days, plus my runs…..because if you can’t completely and insanely overdo something, where’s the fun?

Last Wednesday night my sister-in-law L sent me a text’ “Hey, let’s do hot yoga tomorrow. Class is at 10:00 AM.” Naturally I said yes. How hard could it be? I run.

I was instructed to drink lots of water beforehand, bring more water (this didn’t bode well for my bladder), a mat, and a towel. A hand towel, not a beach towel. Details people! I need details.

Ever tried discreetly wiping away the torrents of sweat which cascade (totally NOT exaggerating) down your face and gradually soak the mat with a persistent drip drip drip off the end of your nose – yes, that’s as gross as it sounds – with a towel as big as the yoga mat? Oh yea…I’m the picture of hot perfection.

Also FYI, there are two types of yogis (Is that the word for people trying to do yoga?), the drippers – see above – and the non-drippers. These are probably aliens, so be wary. Who doesn’t drip while twisting and bending her body into knots while in a sauna?

Anyway L, a friend, and I willingly walked into the studio Thursday morning and proceeded to get our runner/swimmer butts kicked for 75 minutes. Holy Hell! But a good kind of holy hell, because afterwards we were floating on an adrenalin high, all glowy and feeling like, “Yah man, we can do anything!” (Spoken as if you were Ted from Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventures). So we went back the next day, and Sunday, and again Tuesday. *Ouch*

I have it on good authority that hot yoga is fabulous for runners. This authority owes me a drink for the aches, but she’s probably right. All that stretching of the glutes is bound to be of some benefit. And I’ll be very thankful once I get past my sore ass hip flexors.

Since grown women should know better and are always so reasonable, we’re going again tonight. This time we’ve convinced my brother to join us. Payback for all the times we fought as kids. 

yoga, woman, exercise, photograph

See how she’s smiling and not sweating? Alien. That’s all.

http://jackstrawlane.com

Kat @ jackstrawlane

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