While my friend Magdalena was here in San Francisco. She’d drag me everywhere she goes, from the mall, to the nearby cafe or book shop. During one of her episodic itchy feet attacks, she asked me to walk with her to downtown Hayward. She said she wanted to stroll around town and do something productive. And true enough, she found an activity —Yoga. It’s been months since we last tried it, I haven’t done it eversince.
Then last night as I was cleaning out my bag full of crap, I found the membership card for that yoga place downtown. You see, I’m not into healthy or fitness stuff, but due to insistent health demands and numerous plea from family members; I thought it maybe worth another try. I still have nine sessions left, might as well make use of it; at least get my moneys worth. I called Hot Box Yoga and made an appointment. They had an opening the same night for Hot Yoga and was asked that I join that class. I figured out that I still have a good half hour to get there, and it’s only ten minutes away from where I live. I changed into some comfortable cotton shorts and a strectcheable shirt, grabbed my mat and I’m off.
When I got there, I was greeted by this lovely lady who was dripping in sweat. I showed my card and told me leave my stuff in the locker room. After that, I was asked to proceed to the last room on my right hand side. Soon as I opened the door, I felt the temperature rising. It was boiling hot and I started sweating even before the class started. I thought Hot Yoga was just a fancy term or the name of the place. I didn’t expect the word H-O-T to be so effectual, and this was not the class I had in the past. I didn’t want look like a chicken, so I stayed till the end of the session. All my joints were aching and almost at breaking point. Sixty minutes of stretching and poses, I felt like a piece of meat being steamed in a pressure cooker. Boy! That was a total work out. My body was hurting from the muscles down to the bones, and I was sweating heavily like a steam chicken. I’d like to think it was too intense for beginners, but it wasn’t that hard. Subconsciously, I did like it. I’m sort of considering coming back for more.
The Unexpected Ending. After yoga class, I strolled down Mission Avenue for some air. My walk ended at Coldstone Creamery a couple blocks away from the yoga center. I tried to fight the urge, but I ended ordering their Strawberry Cheese Cake Ice Cream. Mind you, I finished the whole cup. So much for my attempt to live a healthier lifestyle, Hahahah!