Sometime’s when you just can’t decide between dancing around your living room or doing yoga, you should mix the two together for a workout that’s fun but still makes you sweat!
So that’s what I did. Turned up my Beyonce Live CD, rolled out the yoga mat and grabbed my 5 pound weights. Mix the three together and my worries were long gone, smiling as I shook my rump, and peaceful as I got my namaste on. What a perfect combo!
As with a majority of girls my age, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little on the obsessive side about my size. Don’t get me wrong- I’m by no means huge but I’m also definitely not the girl at the party who has one slice of pizza and a vodka soda water. I LOVE buff chic anything—love pizza, love pasta, obsessed with nachos and can drink just about any beer there is. SO, weekend cal intakes are FOSH not my best friend. Lucky for me, I don’t completely despise working out. However, as of a few months ago I was feeling over the treadmill and elliptical and decided to buy some classes for heated yoga (not to mention, at the time it was March and as far over the treadmill I was, I was even more over the cold—I needed warmth). So I attended my first class and to my surprise, I didn’t hate it—hinted at really liked it. After I began going on a weekly basis I noticed a few things that I thought I’d share:
– A. they should explain what the hell ‘ommminggg’ is and why you have to do it. I loudly laughed my first class—unknown to me, people take this ‘oming’ bit extremely seriously and I got nasty glares.
– B. there is an ALARMING amount of men that attend these classes. None of which that I’m overjoyed about looking at without their shirts on and sweating profusely for over an hour
– C. the instructors can either be awesome or awful. And by awful I mean the WORST. When a bro MY age is trying to give me wordly thoughts and tell me his feelings about the meaning of life, I’m bound to get a weeeee bit irritated.
– D. I get that breathing is a really important part of yoga—HOWEVER, there is NO need for panting and exhaling as if you’re having the most amazing sex of your entire life. It’s a small room and that makes me feel EXTREMELY uncomfortable. To top it off, it’s mostly ALL men that do this and if you go back to point ‘B’ you can guess where my feelings are towards hearing those noises. It not only creeps me out to no end, it also irritates the beejesus out of me and during an hour that my heart rate is supposed to go down and my ‘chi’ to go up, all I can hear in my head is me yelling STFU!
– E. Lastly, I still don’t know what Namaste is. Really, I just need to Google it—probably would be a simple solution. But every class I continue to smirk and feel like a complete ass clown when I bow my head and say outloud a word that I have NO CLUE what I t means. Point being- there should be a sign on the wall with the definition of this word. That would be mighty helpful.
Other than those absolutely on-point points—you should give hot yoga a try. It’s not as dreadful as people think it would be and honestly, you feel a few pounds lighter and tighter at the end of class. Something we can all appreciate the beauty of.
Have a wonderful day lovebugs— and NAMASTE
p.s. here’s a funny video of yogis. It’s not new to the scene in the slightest- but I got a good laugh out of it- last year—so you should now too. http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=IMC1_RH_b3k