30 Day Challenge! A few firsts....

Day 29- February 24th

At this point, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that I continue to experience a litany of “firsts” as I wend my way through this challenge. My sage dado always told me that I should notice or experience at least three new things per day, and on my 29th day I most certainly did.

Shortly after 3pm, my friend and instructor Jenn invited me to accompany her and a few of her co-workers to the 4:30 Bikram class in Redmond (a studio to which I’ve never been.) I immediately started making excuses for myself: I have no mat, no towel, no gear….but then I thought, “Why not?!” This is exactly the sort of thing I need to enliven my challenge. Truth be told, as much as I love Penni (a battle axe in a tiny little vixen’s body); I was in desperate need of a change.

I bolted from work ten minutes early and began my trek around Lake Sammamish with only my handbag and trusty Igloo water bottle (filled with ice from the dining hall) in tow. Upon arriving, I delighted in the natural light flooding this new studio which was at once classic and modern. A single rack stood humbly at the front window with a handful of designer duds, from which I chose a sports bra and hot shorts. This is worth mentioning because I have never, in my entire yogi career, bared my midsection during practice. I was nervous to do so but knew I had no choice.

Having acquainted myself with Glenn, who was to be my instructor that evening, I headed into the room to the space that Jenn had saved for me. En route, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the front mirror and considered for a moment. You know, I actually look pretty good. Jenn leaned over and nudged me to let me know that she instructed Glenn to give me an especially hard time.

The room was hot. Yes, this is hot yoga, but the room was BOILING. And arid. I’m accustomed to the humidity in my beloved Fremont studio so I immediately noticed a difference. Sunlight flooded into the space and during half moon pose, I bent toward a ray of light poking into the room as though I were a flower thirsty for the light. My postures were fluid and strong but my mind began to wobble as it attempted to balance on the precipice of Hades.

I started to panic. Glenn calmly intoned that if we aren’t at our edge, we are taking up too much space. “Oh, don’t worry” I thought to myself, “I’m at risk of tipping over into the depths of hell at any given moment...” At one point I reached for my water for a brief reprieve from the intensity but had barely even picked it up off the ground before Glenn told me I didn’t need it—leave it be. This was new for me. Not only was he guiding me through the practice, but he was keenly aware of my mental weaknesses and was quashing them at any opportunity.

Before the floor series began, Glenn cracked the door open, which was unfortunately on the far side of the room. I waited patiently for a gentle waft of cool air to roll over my body. When it finally arrived, I was near tears at the brevity of it and tried to ensconce myself in Glenn’s calm guidance: “The human attention span is only 52 minutes so your mind is probably beginning to wander.” He could not have been more right…Nevertheless, I battened down and instead focused on his recommendation that we breathe as though we had gills along the sides of our bodies.

Somehow I managed to endure the entire 90 minutes—even though at one point Glenn took my water away from me. I don’t need it, he insisted. This was practice in a way I had never experienced before. It was regimented and ridiculously hot with little reprieve. During one of the very last postures, I was wilting. I sank to my knees but felt Jenn staring directly at me. She shot me a look that intimated "Upsy Daisy Butter Cup," and I knew I had to power through. It's one thing to hold yourself accountable, but it's quite another when you have a friend there to goad you on. On day 29, I’m not sure I could have done it without her.