Once upon a time, Rainman bought me a coupon from one of those daily coupon sites for hot yoga. An item on my 30B430 list, I was excited and nervous to try it out. As the coupon is set to expire at the end of this month, I mustered up the courage last night and went to my first of five classes.
I'm normally pretty good at picking up a sport and I feel I have adequate coordination skills, so my nerves weren't so much about looking ridiculous, but more so about not knowing what to do next as the instructor calls out the poses. I arrived about 45 minutes earlier on the advice of a friend of Rainman's and was provided a tour of the facilities as well as tips to help me get the most out of my sessions. I was also able to talk with a few other girls that had arrived for the class to get an overall feel for the kind of people I would be around. Every one was so very helpful, polite and informative that my nerves calmed a bit.
I walked into the studio to claim a spot in the back, centered to where the instructor would be standing. The humid air hit me like a brick, but as one who loves the humidity (especially because of how awesomely big my hair gets), I figured it wouldn't be too much of an issue. The room was darkened so that you could lay back, relax and get your head focused and into the game. As I lied there, I tried to pinpoint the exact scent of the room -- musky, sweaty, a bit of a chemical cleaner type smell. Nothing really worth bottling and selling. I then realized they hold a minimum of 4 90 minute sessions in that room that holds up to 60 people a day. That's a lot of sweat. As my eyes began to adjust to the dim lighting, I focused on the fan above me, still trying to focus on breathing, positive mantras, all of those stereo-typical yoga type thoughts you read about. Except all that kept running through my mind were scenes from the Final Destination franchise -- if the bolts that kept that fan up were to come loose and give way, I was "dead" centre to its blades.Fun positive thought to start a class with right? I decided to start focusing on the guys who showed up in speedos to class. They were almost as frightening as thinking about a fatal accident, but much more humourous! Oh speedos, will you ever cease to amuse me?
So the instructor arrives, turns the light on, and acknowledges that I am new. At first concerned that I would be called out for faking it till I make it, I am relieved to find she is great at helping everyone improve their form -- from the obvious yoga junkies to the new and awkward like me. Things were going great. I was participating in loud exhales to really get those bad toxins out of my lungs, and able to follow those in front of me in each pose. The first 20 minutes were awesome!
I don't know what exactly happened. Suddenly out of nowhere I could feel the blood drain from my face and I felt so faint. I sat down and considered the consequences of leaving to get fresh air vs. the possibility of throwing up on my yoga mat and adding a new odor to the already pungent air. I kept breathing and trying to act as though it was completely normal that in a class of 60 red faced people covered in sweat, I was paler than a ghost and starting to shiver. My ever-so-lovely instructor even looked concerned and asked me if I was going to be okay and when the last time I ate was. She told me to keep breathing. After about 5, maybe 7 minutes, I started to feel normal again and stood up.
I continued the rest of the class without any problems and was so proud of myself at the end that I completed my first attempt at yoga -- in a tropical environment no less. I still have 4 more classes to attend to get full value from my coupon and I am actually looking forward to it. I feel really stretched out (which I suppose is the point). Who knows, I may even become one of those people who take part in 30 day yoga challenges. If anything, another item is taken off of 30B430 list! Thanks Rainman :)