OK so I have a weird relationship to sweat. I’ve never been much of a sweater myself, having never had the opportunity to really get sweaty. When I first met my husband I put on his drenched t-shirt after a dance class. Yea I was loving that! But 3 weeks ago I took my first Bikram yoga class and for the first time sweated profusely. Let me explain real quick that Bikram is Hatha yoga done in a 105 plus degree room. If the yoga doesn’t kick your butt, the heat will. During class my eyes are blurred with drips. I completely soak my towel every time. My pores open up and cry. Afterwards I float home and am literally on a yoga high until bed. I’m completely addicted to Bikram–I wish my schedule allowed for me to do it everyday. It’s not just about the sweat. I love really pushing myself to complete exhaustion–again something I’ve never done (except maybe in child birth.) Even when I used to run I never went past my wall–I’d stop every time it got really hard. The last 3 weeks I have been driving myself past all comfort zones into the tremendously challenging brink of…well…it feels sorta like you’re about to die. But you don’t die. You struggle through and stay in the hot room, stretching and twisting until at last you walk out feeling better than you ever have before. There is a lesson there somewhere.
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