Yeah, so, I couldn’t make my usual yoga class on Sunday, so I checked out another yoga studio that is nearby.
The class description on the website said the room was heated to 80 degrees. I figured that was doable, because that’s not bikram yoga hot, which I did a few years ago, and I managed to survive.
So, it turns out this class was way more than 80 degrees. It was bikram hot. And, like I said, I hadn’t done bikram yoga in like five years. I was not mentally prepared for that kind of heat. About 20 minutes into the class I realized I was in a class that wasn’t really right for me. At 30 minutes, I was already struggling to keep up, and I was breathing hard and sweating like this guy. I was a wreck.
One other person in the class was struggling like me, and she was a 10-year old girl who was taking the class with her mother. She was struggling because she didn’t know what a Warrior One or Warrior Two pose is, stuff like that. I was struggling because I’m not in good shape anymore. Also, I’m lazy.
I debated rolling up my mat and sneaking out, but instead I decided to stick it out. I beat cancer. I pushed a baby out of my body without performance-enhancing drugs. I’ve defended myself against people who love Karl Rove and roller bladers. I can handle a stupid hot yoga class. I did what I could, and I got into downward-facing dog or child’s pose when I couldn’t keep up. I hadn’t attended a class like that in a long time, and I can’t expect to walk into a class like that and be super good at it. That’s like expecting to see a hilarious episode of “The Walking Dead.” It’s just not going to happen.
So anyway, that’s my super-exciting story for today. I know, right? My life is a roller coaster ride of routine, mediocrity and beer. Jealous?
And now, for something you’ll really like. Mighty, mighty good man David’s amazing drawings of rejected San Francisco Giants floats.