Tuesday, May 12, 2015
I purposely tried hot yoga today. I say purposely because after a chat with my sister in law, I realized that this is not something that some people would willingly subject themselves to. Specifically, she stated that she will never pay money to go feel like her electricity was shut off in August. I am used to hanging out in the gym the last couple of years. I have become hooked (though in some weeks "less hooked") on the process of strength and endurance training (ala a sort of Crossfit style, but I am completely sold on the concept that MY gym does it RIGHT and wouldn't associate with Crossfit--akin to the annoying cousin who KIND OF looks like you but isn't nearly as cool). Why, NO, it's NOT because my brother is one of the trainers. *Rabbit trail* Anyway, I tried Hot Yoga. I have been walking around a knotted up ball of stress for a good six or seven weeks now. Every life change possible has occurred in a few months time, and today it didn't feel like lifting was going to have the effect of quieting my mind. So I looked in to it. And was terrified. I'm NOT a fan of heat. I hate hate hate Arizona from late May to oh, Novemberish. But I needed something that was going to, although royally suck for a good hour, make me feel like I could have a normal non-spaz thought for a few minutes. So I showed up. I walked in the room and was hit with a punch in the face of pure hellfire with some tropic pre-hurricane weather thrown in. Ok. Cool. Breathe.