Last week I pledged to work out at every other day. I did not. Oopsies!
I really need to find a different method of working out than the Shred. While it is very effective in giving me a full body workout, I have major pain in my lower back from the crunches and reverse crunches because of an old injury. I need something that doesn’t cause me to shout obscenities at the television. Like hot yoga.
What is hot yoga? I will tell you. During the summer, I went with a couple of friends to a local yoga place that heats up the studio to a stifling 120 degrees. Here is my description of the event.
Imagine a dimly lit room with mirrors along one wall and high bars along the opposite wall (ala creepy dance studio). Said creepy room is not only dark, but HOT. I mean lowest level of hell hot. As soon as you walk in the sweat starts to form at your hairline and your brain screams, “Get out you fool! No one but lost souls should be in here! And what is that God-awful smell?” Despair. Breathe through your mouth as you set up your mat and towel so as not to inhale the wet dog odor and realize that the simple act of bending over to set up your mat is the most difficult thing you have ever done in. your. life! Then, the yoga master (or whatever this super peppy freak of nature is called) comes in to begin the torture. He takes you through a series of stretches, back-bends, tree-hugs, downward dogs and then tells you to imagine you’re a fern blowing in the wind. At this point, you would ordinarily laugh because this guy is ridiculous, but you can’t because you’re focused on your misery. Your clothes are soaked through with sweat so completely that it looks as though you’ve been caught in a downpour. When yoga master declares that it is meditation time, the joy that comes over you is so tremendous that it takes what little energy you had left and forces you to just lay on your mat, thinking of only the drip…drip…drip of your neighbor’s sweat falling onto his mat. Finally, you manage to get up off the floor, stumble to the door and taste the sweet smell of air conditioning.
Obviously, I have a bit of the flair for the drama and I’m exaggerating a bit. While the experience was incredibly difficult (and yes it really was THAT hot) I’m glad that I went. The next day, I felt absolutely amazing. My muscles were only sore in a good way and the terminal pain in my sciatic region was down to a low roar. I only wish I had the money to maintain a membership to this place. I would actually go again. If only there was some way to mask the dirty wet dog smell…
ZainyLainy 