I don't know how they convinced me to do it but tonight I find myself suffering for 75 minutes inside of a 111 degree room. At least I'm not the only one torturing myself tonight. My fellow coworkers-Sonji, Cassandra, and James-have taken me to my very first hot yoga class.
Cassandra had been talking about trying this out for over a year and when she finally went and told me all about it, silly me says, "Next time yall go, maybe I'll tag along." She held me to that and tonight we leave The Surge in tiny shorts and shirts ready to take on the challenge of not being able to breathe while posing.
I take my water bottle and mat inside of a serene room above Chirping Chicken on the corner of Lexington & 85th and pick a spot by the mirror. James sets up to my left, Sonji to my left diagonol, and Cassandra in front. It's a wee bit hot in here already but it is also a nice peaceful atmosphere that is very calming. When the class begins, I really don't notice the heat because it seems to be helping my flexibility and bending and twisting has never been this easy. After about ten minutes I notice my legs are slick with sweat and the hand towel I grabbed is definitely helping my sweaty palm situation. At fifteen minutes I bend over my right leg and a drop of sweat runs down my forehead, over the tip of my nose, and splashes down on my pink paisley mat. It is the weirdest sensation to be sweating this much; it's actually falling off me and creating puddles. I still feel good but now I'm worried I'm going to slip in a puddle of my own body water. This really can't be sanitary.
Okay, it has now been 40 minutes and I think I am going to die. My heart is racing more than it does when I sprint and I have already drank the contents of my water bottle. I'm so thirsty that my sweat puddles are looking appetizing.
We're cooling down now at the hour but there is no cool air coming in and I'm miles away from the door. I want to escape but there are hazards in the way like people and rivers of sweat in between them. I wish there were ropes hanging from the ceiling so I can swing out of here but I would probably just slide off and into the swamp that has taken over the serene yoga room. I check out James and Sonji who look like total pros, like this class is cake. I then search out Cassandra but she has already waded through the muck and is patiently waiting for us outside. I really want to join her but I can't find the energy to move.
At 75 minutes my heart has exploded and we're finally allowed to leave. Once outside in the cool air of 80 degrees, I catch my breath. I then talk to the instructor to make sure that racing hearts and blurred vision is normal your first go around. She talks to me for awhile, giving me helpful hints and encourages me to keep practicing.
By the time we leave, I feel better, more relaxed. My running shorts are quickly drying but I'm sweating through my dry shirt already. I thank my Surge buddies for including me in this punishing exercise and tell them I had a great time suffocating.
I then ask when we can go again.
No comments:
Post a Comment