I wrote a few months back about trying new things this year, and for the most part, it’s been fun. So when a friend of mine asked if I’d like to meet for a “hot yoga” class the Saturday after Thanksgiving, I was all for it.
First of all, the class was not “hot yoga.” When I went to sign up, it was called, “Burn.” Perhaps I should have caught on at that time that it wasn’t what I thought it was going to be, but the name of the class barely registered. The class turned out to be an odd mix of Pilates mat moves, cardio and what might have passed for yoga had I never taken an actual yoga class.
Ten minutes in… ok, I’ll be honest, it was more like five minutes in… I knew I was in for it. This is the first time that I can honestly say I did not have fun in an exercise class at all. It was awful because I couldn’t do several of the moves. I realized during this class that there are simply different kinds of fitness. I can go slog 8 miles up and down trails, but I can’t do this class. I can bike 30 miles, but I don’t ever want to do this class again. I can lift weights for an hour with my gym buddy, but I can’t “Burn.”
I’m not sure that there was anyone in the class who was able to do all the moves, but that doesn’t make me feel any better.
On the flip side, I was sore as heck the next day. Clearly, something got worked. My triceps, glutes and abdominals all had a wake-up call.
I’ll stick to my regularly scheduled programming for now, thank you very much. At least until after my race in… t minus 19 days.