You may or may not have noticed, internet, that the weather on the east coast of the continent of North America has been abysmal recently. No bueno. Rain rain and more rain, a serious level of humidity, and temperatures ranging from 60-80 degrees Fahrenheit.
Similarly, you may or may not know that when the weather outside is tempermental, the heat inside the yoga studio is likewise. As my mother would say, it is hot as H E Double Hockey Sticks (this is less of a commentary on my mother’s retiscience to swear in class and more of a commentary on a Canadian’s subconscious urge to refer to our favorite sport whenever possible). Really crazy hot. Hot enough for the walls to sweat, and for the people to sweat so much that you could probably float a toy boat on the floor after class.
That’s a disgusting analogy. I’m so sorry. But you get the point.
Students have been dropping like flies, internet, and when there’s 24 people in a teeny-tiny space, well, there’s nowhere to hide when you’re about to go down like the Titanic.
So what do you do?
You take child’s pose or you leave the room midway through class.
Enter one of the hardest decisions you will ever make.
Have you ever been so hot that you can’t feel your own skin? So hot that your internal body temperature and the temperature of the outside air are neck and neck?
Think about being in a room where the air is stagnant and every breathe you take in feels like you didn’t even inhale. A room where there is no cool breeze, no refreshing gasp of air left in the room. Imagine being in that space, unable to even think about moving, when your arm muscles are going into miniature spasms and your legs are collasping under you. Be in that space and then tell yourself to stay there for another half an hour.
Tell yourself that you have to stay in that room even if you don’t do one more pose and you know that instantaneous relief is a four foot walk away.
Yeesh. No thanks, right?
As I’ve written many, many times before, I am a serial quitter. I like loopholes. I like easy exits. I am very much the type of person who would leave that room (reasons why I’m single #10 – serial commitaphobe).
At least, I used to be that kind of a person, but hey, this is blog post 172, and I ain’t quit this yet, right?
I’ve been making a concerted effort to make myself stay in that damn yoga room, even when all systems are down and I can’t even force myself to do one more pose. I’m going to sit in that stupid space even when I’m making my best excuses to ditch out – I’m going to pass out (no, I’m not), I’m going to puke (no, I’m not), I need to pee (it can wait), I have to check Facebook (excuse me??).
Why am I doing this to myself, internet?
Also, discipline. Also, because I can. Also because I’m sick of being a quitter.
I guess what I’m trying to say, internet, is that we should all stay in the hot room.
(The hot room I’m referring to here is a complicated analogy for life, because when life gets too tough, you can’t just walk out of the room. There is actually a real hot room, but I’m being abstract. Stay with me.)
Because when the tough gets going, the going gets tough.
I learned that from the Lion King.