When a friend texted me yesterday to see if I wanted to go to hot yoga I thought, "oh...well that might be fun." Wrong. So very very wrong.
The first time I heard about hot yoga I couldn't help but wonder why. I live in Florida where it's a virtual sauna four months of the year and during the three months that it's cool and breezy and wonderful, I'm going to go sit in a stuffy 105 degree rooms that smells like sweat? Right, awesome idea.
I think there might be something to yoga that I'm missing though and so I went. I am increasingly convinced that there is something very awesome about practicing yoga that I just can't quite put my finger on yet but last night the only thing that was missing was oxygen. I'm not sure if my heart was racing due to exertion or because it was about to explode from over-heating. It was around the time that I got dizzy wiping sweat from my shins that I started wondering if maybe there's also something to the whole concept of hell too, because if there is, I'm pretty sure it's an eternities worth of hot yoga...and in hell there won't be Jolly Ranchers either.
I came home feeling like a rubber band that's been stretched out and then let to snap back. I swore I'd never go back and then the next day happened. It was awesome. I didn't wake up even once in the middle of the night and then the next day, well it wasn't necessarily a good day but it was....smooth. It was a busy day and while I generally hate recruiting to multiple studies simultaneously (keeping them straight makes my brain ache) today it felt, productive and doable.
I can't help but think that maybe it was the yoga, next time I'll go somewhere not-hot instead.
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