Yoga
I just took a yoga class that almost killed me. By killed, of course, I mean suffocated me with it's sweltering, stifling heat, sweat flicking off my neighbor's skin onto my mat and a water bottle whose last drops of life-sustaining goodness I finished desperately with another 40 minutes left in a 90 minute class. Even the sit-ups - and there are maybe 6 of them total - made me nauseous.
I can't tell if it was good for me because I survived, didn't throw up and sweat out every last toxin or because my attempts at chandrasana and trikanasana, however inflexible and out of balance I was, did some physical, spiritual or mental part of me good. Either way, now that I'm home with a 1/2 gallon of coconut water coursing through my bloodstream I'm high-fiving myself for finishing the weekend with a pretty much close-to-death-experience workout.
In my quest to find a level of fitness and balance that allows me to jump into almost any activity with a modicum of ability, I've got 29 more days on my Groupon to find my yoga center. Or close to center. This is my new training goal.
I can't tell if it was good for me because I survived, didn't throw up and sweat out every last toxin or because my attempts at chandrasana and trikanasana, however inflexible and out of balance I was, did some physical, spiritual or mental part of me good. Either way, now that I'm home with a 1/2 gallon of coconut water coursing through my bloodstream I'm high-fiving myself for finishing the weekend with a pretty much close-to-death-experience workout.
In my quest to find a level of fitness and balance that allows me to jump into almost any activity with a modicum of ability, I've got 29 more days on my Groupon to find my yoga center. Or close to center. This is my new training goal.
Comments