Sweat, Baby, SweatPosted: February 24, 2011
Not too long ago, I tried hot yoga for the first time. Actually, it was my first time trying any kind of yoga. I really didn’t think I was the yoga “type”, if you know what I mean. I enjoyed playing team sports and (the feeling after) running. That whole Namaste culture really wasn’t my thing. “Thank your breath and the moon and the sky for coming together today.” Ummm…. Shut up.
However, all that time spent sitting behind the desk was really starting to take its toll on my spinal chord. People had recommended yoga to me before but it was usually a comment I’d easily disregard. Until one day, I received a Groupon email that read: “$30 for 30 Days of Unlimited Hot Yoga”. For 30 bucks I figured I could at least escape the Vancouver rain and sit in a warm room a couple of times a week.
As things would turn out, I ended up absolutely loving it. The heat warmed my bones, the exercise opened up my spine and provided me with a relief I hadn’t felt in years, and I sweat more than I knew was humanly possible. Like, twist-your-shirt-and-out-comes-a-rainstorm kind of sweat. And my instructors weren’t at all preachy. Except for maybe Will, who made up for it by cracking us up with a timely recording of Alanis Morissete’s song “Thank You”; telling us to “squeeze our thighs together like we’re holding two Lady Gaga tickets and don’t want anyone to get to them”; and serenading us during the cool down session with his rendition of Ricky Martin’s “Private Emotion”. I guess that Hot Yoga combined with Laughing Yoga (an actual thing) equals double the exercise. Oh and a personal note to the middle-aged man who always places himself directly in front of me. We are not in Ibiza. Speedos are a major no-no.
Anyhow, if a non-believer like me could be converted, maybe you’ll think twice before hitting delete next time you see a yoga deal.
And if I haven’t convinced you, perhaps Christy Turlington getting ready for warrior two pose will.