It’s Sunday morning and I’mlying on a yoga mat, literally in a pool of my own sweat.
But what I once thought would be hell is now pure and peaceful bliss.
How did I get here?
@alexatuckah
Let me back up.
Don’t get me wrong, I wasthrilledto dodge a regular P.E.
(But, hey, at least we got five minutes of Savasana at the end of each class.
Hydrated enough?
And aside from one bad yoga class at my college rec center, I never looked back.
Coincidentally, many of them do yoga.
After arriving in Denver on Friday morning, we had a quick welcome lunch at the hotel.
Fueled by coffee
No sweat yetuntil it was time for our first class.
Comforting, not scorching.
What if I look stupid?My nerves dissipated a bit (not entirely though!)
Saluting the sun.
once the instructor walked in and introduced herself and the class.
I’m not sure why this struck a chord in me, but I felt instantly calmer.
About halfway through, when I was cycling through differentwarrior poses, I started to feel panicked.
Day three feels.
means less oxygen, which makes it a little harder to breath when you’re not acclimated.
I sucked it up and just breathed through the heat.
And, guess what?!
Before and after Yoga Sculpt.
The natural amphitheater is surrounded by massiveyou guessed itred rocks, jutting into a clear blue sky.
I have to admit, it’s a pretty breathtaking place to get your yoga on.
Along with 2,000 other yogis throughout the stands (!!!
It was a simple but powerful feeling that came out of nowhere.
(And then I took a selfie, because where I am is 2016.)
The good news: Sunday’s class is supposed to be the toughest!
From the moment I stepped into it, I was sweatingand it only got stickier from there.
With every Down Dog,squat,Triangle Pose, andmountain climber, I felt a little more exhausted.
And, again, it was h-o-tHOT.
In this sweltering class, though, I got to a point where I just didn’t care anymore.
Were my pants high-waisted enough?
I had fun and worked hard.
Lying in Savasana, I noticed an almost-tingling sensation, strange as it sounds.
After the weekend in Colorado I’m feeling more flexible–and in more ways the one.
Who knows, maybe I really am a beets person, too.
Maybe I really do love cooking.
But I’m more willing than ever to give it an honest try.
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