For those of you who aren’t tired of me talking about yoga (you may note that this post is a mini-post. I know everyone who doesn’t do yoga IS SUPER TIRED OF HEARING ME TALK ABOUT YOGA and to them I say…

You’ve probably got a point, so don’t read this post, because not only am I going to talk about yoga, BUT WHAT’S MORE, I’M GONNA TALK ABOUT A YOGA THAT STINKS) listen up.

I tried it but did not fully wrap my arms around Hot Yoga (no pun intended).

However, it had everything that usually does it for me.

First of all, it was yoga.
Plus it wasn’t far from my house (we call this the lazy option).
And plus it’s supposed to make you lose weight (you can make me do anything if you just say, “you’ll get skinny!”)(I mean, it’s almost like, Hey Garance, jump of that cliff! It’ll make you skinny! And off I go, cliff jumping.)
AND they had a promo for a month unlimited just to try it.

I would have to be such a fool to not get into it.

Oh and let me add, it was definitely specified that it wasn’t Bikram Yoga.
I saw a few articles about Bikram and he scares me.
Maybe his yoga is amazing, but Bikram himself is a little scary, right?

Ok, just so I can speak totally freely, I’m not going to name the studio so I can give you the truest of the true account without being mean.

Because actually, the studio was great. Clean, great room, great people, really really really nice place.

But it seems like there is something you can’t avoid in a place where the reward is sweating (and I’m not talking about a sexy thin veil of moisture, no. I’M TALKING GALLONS OF SWEAT. Puddles, my friends, of sweat.) and that something is stink. Hot yoga… It just doesn’t smell good.

Yeah, ok. Our bodies are good though… After 5 minutes, you get so used to the smell, you almost (yeah, almost) forget it.

You almost get used to the heat. The yoga I was doing was not as hot as Bikram. It was like a hot day but inside.

You get used to sweating like a cow (I don’t know why we say that cows sweat) and you even learn, with our silly mind tricks, to think of sweat as some sort of reward.

You end up doing more than three loads of laundry a week just to wash the 12 towels you’ve brought home drenched in sweat.

(Non-yogis reading this… Don’t say I hadn’t warned you that was going to be gross.)

It’s weird. You can definitely see how you could start to love it.

Except for this:

(Text with Delphine, my friend who I named my health expert.)

“I like hot yoga fine, but I’m never sore. I think it’s just too easy.”
“No! It’s just because of the temperature that you’re not sore.”
“Naaaa, I don’t think so. I just think it makes people happy cause they’re sweating so much. #folksaresodumb.”
“…”
“And it stinks.”
“…”
“I think I’m going to stop actually.”
“…”
“It’s true though… I’ve lost five pounds. But that’s probably just because I went back to toast in the morning.”
“…”
“Delphine?”

Ok, so I’m faking a cliffhanger here, but there is actually absolutely no moral to that story: I just think the reason why Delphine was not answering is because she went to the bathroom (I know who does that? Go to the bathroom without her phone? Really?)

This is just to say that I stopped doing hot yoga and I’d love to hear what you have to say about this whole no-soreness thing.

Next time, I’m going to try air yoga. That’s gotta smell good, right?