Hot Yoga is REALLY HOT!

I love yoga.  I know how good it is for the body, mind, and spirit, but I have a really hard time fitting it into my weekly workout routine.  I used to attend yoga classes at the YMCA on Friday mornings, but I dropped it when I realized that I was outgrowing the class.  It was kind of fun to have the instructor say things like, "And when you move to full expression, you'll look like Dusty," and have the whole group groan.  Did I mention that I was the youngest participant in the class...by about 20 years?

So now I do yoga on Friday mornings in the entryway of my air-conditioned home, because it's the only place where I have hardwood floors and space for two yoga mats.  I need two mats, because occasionally the Husband will join me, but invariably the cats want to do yoga too.  And they like to be on whichever mat I'm on.  They're under me when I'm in bridge pose and sometimes on top of my belly while I'm in table top.  Mostly, they think I'm there as their personal jungle gym, so we play musical mats.  Not great for the drishti, but it's a sweet part of the Whiskers' Family routine.

Yesterday, I had an incredible yoga experience.  It rivaled my yoga experience on the third floor rooftop deck at Sea Grove Beach, Florida over Spring Break.  (If you want to rent a great house check out Beachme.)

But the Beachme rooftop had cool breezes and a view of the ocean.  Yesterday's experience was nothing like that.

I have an incredibly strong friend named Melissa, and strong women inspire me.  I've seen Melissa lift heavy weights in my sculpting class.  I've seen her complete four more reps than she thought she could.  I've seen her hold a plank progressively longer as the weeks passed, growing stronger and stronger each time.  I've seen her push herself to her limits and beyond.  But she's not just physically strong, she has a strong presence.  You can tell that she's one of those people who makes a decision to do something and sees it to the end.  So when I heard about her Hot Yoga challenge I knew immediately that she'd meet it with ferocity. 

Melissa's challenge is to complete 30 consecutive days of Hot Yoga classes, and she's been blogging about her experience at Hot in Hot Pants (Hopefully!).  Well, guess who got a free guest pass to join her yesterday?  When Melissa told me to bring two bottles of water, a yoga mat, a beach towel, and a sweat towel, and to wear as little clothing as possible, I knew it would be a hot experience.  But I had no idea how hot HOT could be.  I'm not a fan of being hot.  I don't mind sweating, but I prefer to sweat in an air-conditioned room or outside on a cool spring morning.

So I packed my bag and decided to give it my best shot.  On the way to the car I was hit with the early summer heat and checked the thermometer.  88 degrees.  I thought, who needs a hot yoga studio?  We could just do yoga outside in this heat.  Oh my, I had no idea how HOT Hot Yoga would be.

When we walked into the yoga studio I was smacked in the face with heat.  "Wow, it's HOT!" I mouthed to Melissa so as not to disturb the already centered participants lying on their mats in savasana.  You can always count on me to state the obvious. The thermostat registered 97 degrees.  I was already wishing for the hot 88 degree afternoon that I had inwardly complained about.  Melissa took great care of me, showing me where to put my mat, how to place the beach towel on top of my mat (which I didn't understand until the rivers of sweat starting gushing from every pore in my body), and I followed the cue of the others and laid down.

The heat had a presence of its own, and it sat on my chest as I struggled to get air.  I looked up at the ceiling fans and wondered why in the world I couldn't feel their air movement.  (Later, Melissa told me that the fans aren't usually on at all.  Gift to me!)  If I couldn't handle laying down in this oppressive heat, how was I going to move in it for 75 minutes?  This was Melissa's 17th day of her challenge.  She had survived 16 consecutive sessions so far, and I wasn't sure that I could last one.

It was one of the hardest workouts I've ever done.  I sweat more in that 75 minute class than I did running my last half marathon.  I'm not talking lady-like perspiration beads on the forehead.  I'm talking dripping from your nose, earlobes, chin, elbows, and fingertips sweating.  But as I sweat, I moved, I held poses, I teetered and tottered, I focused, and I gracefully kicked over my open water bottle.  Several times I wished there was a clock in the room so I'd know how much longer the torture would last; other times the moments quickly moved by as I was completely engaged in form and stillness.  By the end of class, the temperature in the room had reached 100 degrees.  Hot Yoga is REALLY HOT!

In the welcomed air-conditioned lobby, Melissa sweetly congratulated me for making it through my first class.  But she's the one who should be congratulated.  She's made it through 17 consecutive classes, she has 13 more to go, and she is going to finish strong.  What an incredibly strong woman.  You can follow her progress as she completes this challenge at Hot in Hot Pants (Hopefully!), and check out her blog entry for Day 17 to see how I did!  She's a beautiful writer, a great person, and an inspiration.  I know you'll love it.

So, am I a Hot Yoga convert?  I know that I loved the feeling of accomplishment when the class was over.  I know it pushed me beyond what I thought I could do.  I know that when I was done I wanted a cold, clean, vegetarian dinner.  I know I felt as if every last toxin had been purged from my body.  It was a great experience.  I think I'll be back.  Could I do it 30 days in a row?  Not a chance!  I'll leave that up to Melissa.

Have you ever tried Hot Yoga?  Share your experience!

The Maiden Voyage

This was a big day.  The training schedule said to swim for 48 minutes.  This would be the maiden voyage of the DW Ship.  So, I got up early, put on that really unattractive swimsuit, grabbed my goggles, and we drove to the YMCA.  On the way, we hit rush hour traffic, and I was thankful.  That gave me a few extra minutes to find some courage.  I actually asked the Husband to drive a little slower.  I'm not sure what I was so worried about.  You don't just forget how to swim, right?  I think I was worried because I didn't know what to expect.  Would I swim three laps and then cling to the side of the pool gasping for breath?  How far would I get in 48 minutes?  Could I even last 48 minutes?  What was I thinking announcing that I was starting to train for a triathlon when I had no idea if I could even complete the first event?!  The Husband patiently listened to all of my wonderings and drove on.  Slowly.

Thankfully, the pool was fairly empty except for a large group of aqua exercisers bouncing up and down with floaties, so it was easy to find a lap lane to share.  The Husband wished me luck and he was off.  "See you at the other side!"

My first lap was great, the second lap was even better.  On the third lap I started to feel my biceps straining.  What?  I thought swimming was a shoulder workout.  By the fifth lap I seriously thought my arms were not going to be able to take another stroke.  Then somewhere during the sixth lap, something magical happened.  My arms suddenly felt fine.  The muscle fatigue was gone.  My body felt great!  So I just kept swimming.  And swimming.  And swimming.  It became a numbers game for me.  I knew that 64 laps in this pool was a mile.  I had no idea if I could swim that far in 48 minutes, but on my non-flipturns I'd check the clock and do a little math.  Was it possible?  Could I really swim a mile my first time out? 

I didn't push.  I just swam and counted, swam and counted.  And believe it or not, I did it!  I swam a mile!!!  A whole mile!!!  And I only had to stand up once in the middle of the pool sputtering when the Husband's splash choked me as he sailed by.  When I saw that I had completed my mile in 42 minutes, the next six minutes were spent celebrating, bouncing, bobbing, and floating on my back, not a whole lot of serious training there!

So, I'm feeling a lot better about my ability to do the first leg of of the triathlon.  But I have some huge anxieties to get over.

This picture sends my heart into my throat.

This picture makes my heart pound out of my chest.

The ripples WAY the heck out there is the first wave of men.  The Husband is out there somewhere!

But that's a whole 11 1/2 weeks away.  For now, I'm just taking one day at a time, hanging onto the side when I need to, giving this thing my best shot.

Crazy, Stupid, or Both?

Last year, the Husband completed his first triathlon.  I watched him train like a maniac all summer long.  I swam a few laps next to him during his training swims.  I biked with him after he completed his 30 miles for the day.  I even ran a few of the shorter runs with him.

On the day of his triathlon, I was his road support, his cheerleader, and his nutritional adviser.  I was thrilled to be there to support him.  But as soon as he crossed that finish line (ten minutes before his goal time too), I was jealous.

I might be crazy, or maybe just a little bit stupid.  But I think I may train for the Fall Creek Falls Triathlon this summer.  It's an Olympic length tri, which means swimming 1,500 meters (just shy of a mile), biking 24.9 miles, and running 6.2 miles.  Gulp.

I can run.  I've completed five half marathons now.  I can knock out 6.2 miles.

I can bike.  I teach at least three spin classes each week and during spring break the Husband and I completed a 35 mile ride through beach towns.












I can swim.  Kind of.  If you dropped me in the middle of a lake, I could survive and swim to shore.  It wouldn't be pretty, but I'd get there.  I can do the crawl, but I can only breathe on one side.  While swimming laps, I often hit the lane dividers, and there's no way I can even attempt the flipturn.  I hate sharing a lane with someone because their splashing makes me choke.  I think I could survive a mile swim in a zigzaggy line.

But all three in one morning???  That's what training is for.

I'm already a little behind.  I only have twelve weeks starting, well, yesterday.  Part of me thinks that since I'm fairly fit already, all I have to do is ramp up the endurance to complete a 3 plus hour event.  The rest of me has no idea if I'm even capable of such a feat. 

So, training started yesterday with a 5 mile run.  It continued today by teaching a spin class and buying my first ever swim suit NOT designed to wear sunbathing by the pool.  Training will continue tomorrow with my first swim since last summer.

Am I crazy, stupid, or both?