I lay out my yoga mat, and then a towel over it. The sweat is already forming on every part of my body. They weren’t playing around. The room is hot. I can’t remember the exact temperature it’s heated to, but I believe it’s upwards of one hundred degrees, if not a little more. I meant to ask Andrea, the instructor, but forgot. I’m sitting on my mat in a cross-legged position, hands on my knees, trying to psyche myself up with a quick meditation. If I could just sit like this the whole hour, I’d be fine. But once we start moving through the poses, I know I’m going to get uncomfortable! I knew I would be and I don’t have a problem with that. I just don’t want to vomit or pass out in class. Yes, I’ve read online that those things can happen in a hot yoga class. It occurs to me that I may be a glutton for punishment.
Andrea walks into the heated room and tells us, in her soothing yoga instructor voice, to take child’s pose.
Class was good. I got through it! The first half went really well, but after that, the heat was getting the best of me, and I had to take some small breaks. Just a couple of breaths or to take a sip of water. I won’t lie, though. I was glad when it was over!
I’m moving slowly trying to get my things together to leave, and head for the door. Andrea is already back at the front desk. She sees me coming, smiles, and says, “you did great!”
I wave my hand dismissively, a bit embarrassed. But it’s nice of her to say that. “I enjoyed it, but I don’t think I did great. I did pretty good, though!” I am proud of myself for trying something new and for getting outside my comfort zone. I like to mix it up every now and then. “Thanks so much. I’ll see you soon,” I say as I walk out the door.
Now I can go home and cross hot yoga off my bucket list. After I take a shower.