Slippin’ & a sliddin’.

A couple of weeks ago I took my first yoga class.

Now, I know that I’m about 10 years behind the whole yoga pants and Namaste party, but I say ‘better late than never’. For starters, let’s talk about how the room was only 80 degrees.  It seemed that for everyone else in the class that was a perfectly acceptable temperature… but for me, it meant that I looked like I just hopped out of a pool by the end of the 75 minute class. How gross is that? Let me assure you that it was very gross. To make it even more sexy, all that sweat wandered down to my cheapo Target mat meaning that my downward dog looked a little more like a 10-year-old fighting with a Slip n’ Slide. Plank? Sure, no… woosh face plant.

In an effort to one up my level of disgusting, I took a little trip to Vail the next weekend to visit one of my friend Jacqui. It turns out that Jacqui just completed her yoga teacher training this spring. Did I say yoga, I meant hot yoga. As in intentionally inflicting suffering upon herself. So, obviously, I invite myself to the class she teaches on Friday nights because why the hell not?

I made it up to Vail in a little over two hours and reapplied some deodorant before heading into the studio. You have to figure if it got ugly at 80 degrees, one cannot have too much deodorant in preparation of 90 minutes in 105 degrees? Am I right, or am I right? I stepped through the door and immediately the office was about a bazillion degrees hotter than it was outside… as in your skin starts to pinken up after about 30 seconds and that deodorant starts to get it’s first real test in durability.

There isn’t any way to mentally prepare yourself for the wave of smoldering air that hits your face as you step into the classroom. There also isn’t any way to mentally prepare yourself for the ways your body will contort while being repeatedly slapped in the face with ridiculous blasts of heat. At the end of the standing series I was fairly certain I would fall down, die and never again feel the cool relief of normal temperature air on my face. Luckily I was greeted by the mat (or whatever you call it) series and I thought there at least was some hope left in this world… but alas, when you’re contorted awkwardly, half upside down, that really sexy sweat finds it’s way into your nose and ears. Nothing like wet ears and a stinging sweat drenched nose to add fun to the experience.

I am proud to say that I made it through without passing out, throwing up or crying (though who would be able to tell with all the sweat?). The verdict is still out on the hot versions (I’d try it again – only making sure I find my way into a dri-fit bra beforehand), but this yoga business has got something to it. I’m in.

P.S. Have your ever had your forearms sweat? Yeah, me neither… er, until the other day. Turns out in a 105 degree room there really isn’t any body part free from sweatsville.

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