This morning, when I got up and walked into the living room, I saw this:
Apparently my cat likes yoga as much as I do! Well, at least she likes lying on yoga mats. Of course, she likes lying on pretty much anything.
Anyway, speaking of yoga, last night, my coworker and I decided to check out a new (free) class at a studio called “Core Power Yoga.”
Well, apparently we did not read the Core Power Yoga website clearly enough.
We were both wearing our usual yoga outfits--t-shirts and exercise pants—and as we filled out the check-in paperwork, the receptionist remarked, “You’ll be in the heated studio—studio 1.”
Um, excuse me? Heated? What does that mean?
We were about to find out.
As we walked into the classroom, we immediately started sweating. (Later, I found out on their website that the room was heated to NINETY-FIVE degrees, plus humidity.) I’m kind-of glad I didn’t know how hot it was ahead of time. I think it would have freaked me out to know that it was ninety-five degrees in there. As it was, I was a little worried that I might not be able to handle a whole hour of the heat, plus movement.
My friend and I exchanged slightly nervous, slightly amused looks.
“Oh my God, I’m sweating so much already!” I said, rolling up my pants legs and praying that I would make it through the class without a problem.
But you know what? As the class wore on, as uncomfortable as the heat was, I realized that it was really helping me stretch better. I guess it makes sense—warm muscles are easier to stretch—duh!
I’m not going to lie. It was a tough workout. But it also felt really good—especially when it was over.
Oh, yes, I was really glad when it was over. As I walked out of the studio, my clothes were sticking to me, and I needed a shower more than I think I’ve ever needed a shower before.
And guess what? I’m doing it all again tomorrow night. Yes, that’s right. I am subjecting myself to another hour of exercise in 95-degree heat and humidity.
Just call me a glutton for punishment.