So, I just wrote a whole post about how a couple months ago, things were really, really bad for me, and how lost and alone, and blah blah blah I felt. But I deleted it, cause you know what? Why dwell?
The point is, through all that, I found something that centered me, and may have saved me from an ugly, ugly meltdown.
I started taking Bikram yoga.
I think I’m pretty athletic, at least a lot more athletic than my city girl persona gives off. BF can attest to this after I outran him during our one and only run all last summer along Riverside Park. But boy am I lazy! I have zero motivation to go to the gym, especially since there isn’t one that’s within a one block radius of my apartment, and the thought of working out after work? I’m already too tired from walking up and down and around the office to go walk up and down on some treadmill. Oh, and I have really long hair. Washing my hair is a sport in itself and I would loath having to deal with that every day.
You know how people say that once you start going regularly to the gym, a day without working out would make you feel weird all over? Well, I called bullsh*t on that one. There is no way I would ever become addicted to working out. Sure I would feel great after my few and far between runs on the treadmill, but I would feel even better the next day when I didn’t have to do it again.
After my first class at Bikram Yoga Union Square, I eat my words…
I’m in love.
I’ve been yapping for awhile about how I thought going to yoga would make me feel better about whatever miserable drama I was going through at the moment, but of course, after all the non-action I was taking, a girlfriend of mine finally took the initiative and found us a studio. So, with my newly bought bright pink yoga mat in hand, I was ready to tackle this class.
It was all I could do to keep from dying during my first class.
Apparantly, there are 26 poses in Bikram that are the same no matter where you go, so EVERYONE in my class knew what to do. I, however, stood there for a good minute waiting for the teacher to stand in the front and start demonstrating before I realized, he wasn’t gonna! He was the New York Post famed Yoga Nazi, Otto Cendeno, and he lived up to every letter in “Yoga Nazi.”
He yelled at me, mocked me, kicked my feet, dripped sweat on me, the whole shebang. I snuck a peek at my watch at the point I felt I was going to pass out, and realized I wasn’t even halfway through the class. It was the longest 90 minutes of my life and I thought to myself, it’s gonna take a lot for me to come back.
Well, guess what? I’ve been going back ever since, 3~5 times a week, and actually looking forward to each class. What’s more incredible? I wake up early on Saturday and Sundays to go sweat my a*s off.
I’ve been going for about 7 weeks now, switching to Bikram Yoga Manhattan due to a promotion kgb was having. I’ll compare the 2 studios when my one month stint at BYM is up and I have to decide where I want to pay full price. (Not a cheap hobby!)
Either way, I think I’m going to keep this up for awhile. It’s done wonders for my mood, kept me away from trouble due to the early morning classes, and yep, I lost 7 whole pounds!
Disclosure: This post is not sponsored by any yoga studio.