So I made good on my New Year's resolutions and signed up for a week of bikram yoga for only $23! Good deal, right? Too bad it'll probably kill me before the end of the week.
On Monday night, I had my first class. As soon as I got to the building, I knew it was going to be an disaster. The damn studio was on THE THIRD FLOOR! With no elevator. With a million steps. By the time I got upstairs, I was huffing and puffing so hard that I had to sit down! It's pretty embarrassing to sign up for a yoga class when you're so out of breath that you start fake coughing to cover it up.
After I signed up, I met with the teacher. She was way too bubbly for my taste (seriously-calm down lady. Yoga is not going to cure all my various diseases/cancer!). I wish I never even told her about my health problems because for one, she nearly kicked me out of the class due to my high blood pressure. Then she also started bragging about what great health she's in and that she hasn't seen the doctor for a cold in seven years (who would go to the doctor for a cold anyway? Hypochondriac!) Finally she finished lecturing me and let me into the class where I was immediately enveloped in 105 degree heat. It was like a steam room in there. People started trickling in, barely wearing clothes. Most men didn't have a shirt on and only wore boxer brief workout shorts! I'll admit I was looking forward to seeing some good looking men with no shirts, but all I saw were mid 40's businessmen with more hair on their back then on their head. Yoga was really losing points in my book.
And then...the 90 minutes of Hell began. I couldn't bend. I wasn't flexible. I am so out of shape that my heart felt like it was going to explode. My face was so red, it made tomatoes look pink. After about ten minutes, the heat got really intense. This was around the time that people started to sweat on me. First, the sweaty old man next to me dripped on my face. Then my own yoga teacher dripped on me! I felt betrayed; she was just standing there talking (being our "inner" voice. God, I'm too cynical for that shit!) IT WAS SO GROSS. I know sweat is natural, but come on. Not on my face.
When I finally left that God-forsaken studio, I got on the subway and headed back to Brooklyn. Now, I'm not cocky or anything but usually people don't look at me in disgust (Usually. But sometimes). However, after 90 minutes of sweating it out in that box of Hell, I looked...not my best. I wondered why everyone was sniffing around me, complaining about the smell. Then I got outside and took a whiff. I'm pretty sure the smell is not my fault; I was trapped in a small hot room with forty other people. Plus I don't sweat...I glow. I got right in the shower when I got home, after Brenna laughed for ten minutes at my appearance. I took a look in the mirror and saw why none of the hotties on the train even glanced my way. I looked like a giant pimple; red and swollen.
Tuesday, I was so sore and in so much pain that I vowed never to go back. I'm pretty cheap though, so I wasn't about to waste my 23 bucks. Wednesday night I went again. I feel a little better about myself...I even lost half a pound! But my hair was wet when I went outside and now I have a cold and a cough! Damn you, yoga!!!
My attempt to be all Zen like that chick in Eat, Pray, Love has failed. Will I be back to eating bon bons on the couch and lying to doctors about my exercise habits?? Time will tell!
On Monday night, I had my first class. As soon as I got to the building, I knew it was going to be an disaster. The damn studio was on THE THIRD FLOOR! With no elevator. With a million steps. By the time I got upstairs, I was huffing and puffing so hard that I had to sit down! It's pretty embarrassing to sign up for a yoga class when you're so out of breath that you start fake coughing to cover it up.
After I signed up, I met with the teacher. She was way too bubbly for my taste (seriously-calm down lady. Yoga is not going to cure all my various diseases/cancer!). I wish I never even told her about my health problems because for one, she nearly kicked me out of the class due to my high blood pressure. Then she also started bragging about what great health she's in and that she hasn't seen the doctor for a cold in seven years (who would go to the doctor for a cold anyway? Hypochondriac!) Finally she finished lecturing me and let me into the class where I was immediately enveloped in 105 degree heat. It was like a steam room in there. People started trickling in, barely wearing clothes. Most men didn't have a shirt on and only wore boxer brief workout shorts! I'll admit I was looking forward to seeing some good looking men with no shirts, but all I saw were mid 40's businessmen with more hair on their back then on their head. Yoga was really losing points in my book.
And then...the 90 minutes of Hell began. I couldn't bend. I wasn't flexible. I am so out of shape that my heart felt like it was going to explode. My face was so red, it made tomatoes look pink. After about ten minutes, the heat got really intense. This was around the time that people started to sweat on me. First, the sweaty old man next to me dripped on my face. Then my own yoga teacher dripped on me! I felt betrayed; she was just standing there talking (being our "inner" voice. God, I'm too cynical for that shit!) IT WAS SO GROSS. I know sweat is natural, but come on. Not on my face.
When I finally left that God-forsaken studio, I got on the subway and headed back to Brooklyn. Now, I'm not cocky or anything but usually people don't look at me in disgust (Usually. But sometimes). However, after 90 minutes of sweating it out in that box of Hell, I looked...not my best. I wondered why everyone was sniffing around me, complaining about the smell. Then I got outside and took a whiff. I'm pretty sure the smell is not my fault; I was trapped in a small hot room with forty other people. Plus I don't sweat...I glow. I got right in the shower when I got home, after Brenna laughed for ten minutes at my appearance. I took a look in the mirror and saw why none of the hotties on the train even glanced my way. I looked like a giant pimple; red and swollen.
Tuesday, I was so sore and in so much pain that I vowed never to go back. I'm pretty cheap though, so I wasn't about to waste my 23 bucks. Wednesday night I went again. I feel a little better about myself...I even lost half a pound! But my hair was wet when I went outside and now I have a cold and a cough! Damn you, yoga!!!
My attempt to be all Zen like that chick in Eat, Pray, Love has failed. Will I be back to eating bon bons on the couch and lying to doctors about my exercise habits?? Time will tell!
That was classic Kelly. I can imagine it all perfectly. Don't give up pookie!
ReplyDeletebtw
ReplyDeleteyour face is always red...
HEY. I KNOW THAT. BUT IT WAS WORSE THAN EVER AFTER YOGA.
ReplyDeleteMy face always gets red too, you're not alone. But I would NEVER take a freakin yoga class in a 100 degree room so that's where we differ. Resolution or not...I work out alone for a reason.
ReplyDeletezexy!hahaha.lovesit.for realz.i agree w/ kristie--classic kelly and thats what brings the lolz! so funny because i was just re-reading a gossip girl book where dan does bikram...but in the book most of them do it NEKED. you probably should too next time ha. haa
ReplyDeleteB.T.DUBS- who is Anonymous?! its KILLING me! i know one Anonymous is Gregory Bergin, but who is the other? there are clearly two Anonymouses. REVEAL YOURSELF (Mrs. Bergin!)
ReplyDeleteyoga sucks. i once tried yoga after a spinning class at my gym thinking it was going to be a 'stretching' class. not so much. turned out to be like yoga level expert and i was sweating bullets while other people were standing on their heads like it was nothing in their treehugger gear. lol. im sure yoga is cool though. not for me.
ReplyDeleteyea Kel- keep bringing the lolz!
ReplyDeleteRemember when I got stuck in that yoga position and almost broke my neck? That sucked.
ReplyDeletezen does not run in the bergin family!!!!!!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteHot yoga. Nothing hot about it. The 90 pound dude waving his sweat-sopped, loosely- fitting-speedo-ed ass in my face was turning me from men. I have since seen men who turned me back, but still.
ReplyDeleteAnd when I went to bikram, it was CARPETED. Just let that soak into your imagination.
I am all about air-conditioned yoga. There is a reason God allowed me to be born into the electric age.