Sunday, April 4, 2010

It's Hot But It Ain't Salsa

Saturday Dean and I went to our first red hot yoga class. I’ll admit I was a little nervous. I’d heard the room would be really hot ( yoga), and even though I do have experience with heat, I was a little worried I might not be able to get through this class without throwing up or passing out. I think Dean was having second thoughts himself because about an hour before it was time to go he said, “my neck is sore. I’m not sure I can go.” I gave him “the look”, told him a hot room would help ease the pain in my his neck, and he wasn’t getting out of going that easily.

We walked into the yoga room which was at 85 degrees. I know, because there was a big thermometer on the wall. There were three rows of yoga mats all lined up. Most were already taken with people sitting in the yoga position, on their own special sweat soaking towels, patiently waiting.  Dean found a spot and laid out his own yoga mat and I sat on one of the vacant mats. I tried to get him to bring his mat over and sit by me “in case I pass out” but he preferred to be by the wall and the furthest from any of the four lights heating the room.  I, unwittingly, had sat on a mat directly under one of the lights, which my yogi neighbor told me, with a big grin, “is one of the hottest places in the room.”

As I looked around, all I saw were young people. Young people in organic yoga outfits who looked like they had just walked out of the pages of a yoga magazine. Of the approximately 20 or so people in the room, the average age (if you don’t count Dean and I) was probably around 28. I’m not kidding when I say there might have been three people who were a bit too old to have been our children.  By now I had progressed from being a little nervous to “what the hell did I get myself into? What if I DO pass out? Or, holy crap, what if I throw up?! I wondered if anybody would notice if I walked out while I had the chance. Would those young, fit, seriously intense-looking, color coordinated yogis talk about me?  ...  "hey, did you see that old fossil who was too scared to try?" As it turned out, I wasted so much time trying to decide what to do that the class started while I was still in mid-debate and I lost my chance for escape.

But guess what?  I did it. We did it. Dean and I did it! The old geezers. The geriatrics. The ancient folks. The AARP members. Yes. We. Did. We held those poses. We sweat and sweat and sweat. And I did not pass out or throw up, even though by the time the class ended ONE HOUR and FIFTEEN MINUTES later, the room was nearing 100 degrees. We kicked butt! Take that you buff, young, pretty yogis.

And you know what else? Dean liked it a lot but I loved it. I absolutely loved it! I am going back for more. And one of these days I am going to be able to do this!

Or.......Maybe not.◦


Art Elser said...

Cathy, if you ever do get to do "this" how will you ever get down from there? I've tried during yoga to get into one of those bows, but luckily I never did. Can you imagine screaming for someone to hold you by the waist so you can let go and get back down to the floor?

I've got to start back to yoga. Just as soon as I get over this sciatica I've had now for a couple of months. Makes it tough just walking. Not a chance I could get through an hour and some of a yoga class.

Way to go Cathy and Dean. You're my heroes. Now get Al to go with you. Tell him about all those fit, late 20 somethings in the color-coordinated outfits. Just don't tell Les. ;-)

Abby said...

Hot yoga sounds horrible! Or maybe it just sounds like a typical day here at you think I get any benefits by doing crunches and push-ups when it's 85 degrees in my house? At least the shower is nearby.