My friend C strong-armed me into trying Intentional Yoga in Kalamazoo. They do hot yoga. That's yoga in 100 degrees. Yesterday was my first time.
They keep the room dark which is nice. Nobody wants to see sweat pouring off the nose of his/her neighbor. Nobody wants her neighbors to see sweat pouring off her own nose. Also, I have yet to find garment-friendly yoga clothes. I mean, my g's are covered by my clothes initially, but one down dog, and they're poking out. Since it was dark, though, I didn't worry about it. It's not like anyone would have stared at me anyway. We were all staring at the instructor and the tall girl who knew what she was doing so we could figure out what we were supposed to do.
(Note to self: label your right hand and foot with R and your left hand and foot with L before the next class. Also, ask your kindergarten teacher why she let you go on to 1st grade without knowing left from right.)
I've only ever done yoga with the TV before yesterday, so I'm not sure if this is typical, but there was no talking (except from the instructor) going on. I guess everyone was meditating or concentrating or something. I really wanted to ask, "Is this pose supposed to make my arm go numb? Because I can't feel my fingers anymore" and "Could you wait just a second while I figure out which is my right hand and which is my right toe?" But I didn't. Talking and questions were clearly forbidden.
The practice was tough. And sweaty. I've never sweated so profusely in my life. But when it was over, I couldn't believe how good I felt. Resentment toward C for talking me into hot yoga was totally gone. I didn't even know what resentment was anymore because all I felt was love and goodwill toward all of God's children. When I got home I called my sister and told her about it. "So it makes you delusional," was her response.
Pretty soon, though, the euphoria was gone, I was exhausted and shaky, and promptly downed half the chocolate chip cookies I'd made for the kids. I had a stomach ache coupled with ravenous hunger for the rest of the day, didn't stop eating until 10 pm, slept like the dead that night, and woke up sore but strangely eager to do hot yoga again. I'm planning to go to the 5:45 AM session on Monday. Care to join me?
3 comments:
I've been circling this for a couple of years. It is wildly appealing to me. The binge eating and other after-affects are concerning though. Also concerning is that no one likes me enough to babysit my 2-yr-old so I can go :(
5:45?! Crazy person. And my commitment to garment-wearing doesn't extend to the practice. Because you know you're dabbling in another religion then, right? Just kidding. Yay, Charlotte! I love yoga. It's better than benzos.
I second that notion, except for the last sentence.
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