They made me do it
I have crazy, persuasive friends.
Crazy, persuasive friends who manage to get me to sign up for two weeks of intense hot yoga. (Hot yoga = yoga done in a room heated to 40 degrees.)
The overly enthusiastic instructor-man with the cricket-like limbs and lycra hot pants warned: “It’s addictive.” It really is though.
I now crave sweating my guts out every morning and evening. Sometimes I feel pretty zen. Mostly I just feel like I’ve sweated out everything that’s bad in my body, so that third glass of wine/cookie/slap chip is totally in order. Totally. (The focus and zen-ness will come once I can do a proper crow stand, methinks.)
I stick to the Vinyasa classes; I tell others it’s because the times suit me better, but really I’m too much of a wimp to try Bikram. By the time class is over, I can squeeze my clothes to drip out the extra sweat. It’s not that gross, halfway through you can usually tell that you’re body has actually sweated itself out and it’s now pure water oozing out of your skin. Hmmmmm…
And I actually think this is fun. (Shaking my head at myself.)
*Yoga Zone runs an introductory offer for new students. You can sign up for 10 sessions over 2 weeks at R120, after that standard rates apply. They also have a free drop-in session every Thursday evening at 7.30 – it gets packed!