Great day at work yesterday, the team is really catching on and crushing their calls. This is what I have been wishing for since the summer and I am stoked to see it pay off for S-Trip! and for my employees. To celebrate I head out for some beveys with the always exciting Brook Robertson. He tells me we are going to a Moroccan party as he sports a tasseled blazer. After the Moroccan party we head to The Factory on Granville (great for unlimited free peanuts!) and cap off the night there. I walk home from the bar and have gotten really good at ignoring temptations. $1 Pizza slices on every corner, Taquito advertisements plaster the 7-11 windows and on the very last corner before I enter my condo, the Golden Arches tease me to buy french fries and McNuggets everynight.
Happy I didn't indulge in greasy treats, up early again and I'm off to Yoga. I have done Yoga before but never Hot Yoga. I have the dear Jenna Fletcher to thank for this alien experience who invites me to her class. Now every yoga class I have been to thus far has felt like intense stretching and a combination of balancing acts...and of course a lot of very fit women in yoga pants. Not a bad workout and not a bad setting either and I entered this class assuming it was the going to be the same as all the other classes. Dressed in appropriate yoga attire (tights and no shirt) I stretch, warm up and get ready for the class.
Once the class begins, I quickly realize this isn't any regular yoga classes. The poses are awkward, the holds are long and the room is freggin hot! Not even 10 minutes into the session, my mat is drenched, my hair is dripping and I even slip in a puddle of my own sweat in front of everyone. My arms aren't as high, my legs aren't as stretched and the instructor decides to stand right next to me to point out my bad form as an example to others. My downward dog looks like I am curled up in the fetal position but on my hands and knees and my when I am on my back I look like a flipped over turtle who can't get back to his feet. I am clearly the outcast in the bunch and find out that this class is for advanced yogis (yoga people term for people who do yoga) and isn't for 60 minutes but 120 minutes of torture. After about 90 minutes I bow out and retreat to my car. I am very satisfied with my effort and look forward to my next practice, I'll just be sure to stay away from the advanced classes.
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