A very important package arrived in the mail this week. Yep, that's right, Santa sent us our own Elf on the Shelf. Now, the keen eye might detect a resemblance between this elf and some dolls I have made in the past, but my children do not have keen eyes yet, so it's all good. (If you are curious, about DIY Elves on the Shelves, take a look here for inspiration.)
I realize that the Elf on the Shelf craze probably peaked two Christmases ago, but I am usually slow to embrace current trends and so I'm perpetually running a few years behind everyone else. So now I have an Elf on the Shelf, own several pairs of skinny jeans, and have decided to try hot yoga.
Deciding to try something and actually trying it are two different things in my world. Recently I have tentatively stuck my big toe into the vast ocean that is yoga, but following along to yoga DVDs while wearing pajamas in my living room was getting old fast. So when my friend Kate found a Groupon for hot yoga classes, I was all about it, in spite of my limitations when it comes to following directions and any sort of organized movement. The thing about Kate, besides her perfect hair, is that she makes anything possible. I think the proof of this lies in the fact that I've made it this far through teaching sixth grade... Also, she has this obscenely adorable baby:
Anyway, adding to this quickly spiraling cycle of awesomeness was the fact that my friend Alexa teaches at the yoga studio! And in addition to knowing my deficiencies/challenges (both physical and otherwise), Alexa is a crazy talented teacher, which is exactly what I needed. It would take some crazy talent to get a gangly klutz like me doing hot yoga in a room full of strangers, that's for sure.
More holiday merriment while I build intrigue for the story of my first yoga class.
Kate and I committed to a class on Sunday morning. On Saturday she texted me reminding me that I should be hydrating. I was hydrating all right, but not in the way I should have been. There was wine, then some pear cider followed by beer. What can I say? I had seven kids in my house making candy sleighs, these were dark times.
I wasn't sure what I should wear until I remembered that I had actual yoga pants that I had purchased years ago and had worn for a variety of purposes, but never for actual yoga. Perfect, I thought.
Kate arrived to pick me up bright and early and we equipped ourselves with water bottles (I was cramming for finals with the hydration at this point) and I walked to the closet to grab us some towels.
"Oh, we don't need to bring towels," Kate confidently informed me. And because Kate knows everything, my yoga pants and I followed her out the door sans towels.
We arrived and checked in for our class, immediately feeling intimidated by our classmates. Alexa tried to put as at ease, explaining that there were plenty of other newbs in the class that day. "Did you see her?" Kate whispered at me as we unrolled our borrowed mats at the back of the room, gesturing at one of the other first-timers. "She's like 6 feet tall and a professional athlete!"
The room was HOT. I sort of couldn't breath as Kate and I waited for class to start and whispered to each other about whether or not it was okay to be whispering. The humidity was rolling over us in waves and the smell of tea tree oil hung pleasantly in the air. As someone who is chronically cold, I was actually enjoying the warmth, though it would have been nice to be able to breathe.
Class started and Alexa went fast. I was downward dogging and sun saluting and planking my way right along just fine for about five minutes. Then the directions started getting kind of confusing. Something about my left "peace fingers" and the inside of my right knee and pushing my feet into the ground and extending my back... forehead to the what? I twisted myself up into a pretzel and hoped I was doing okay. They have you looking into a mirror the whole time, which I suppose would help most people, but for me that just made the whole left/right thing more of a challenge. I was a sweaty mess, teetering on some extremity and praying I wouldn't topple over and send us all down like dominoes. And then I make the mistake of looking over at Kate. She is a swan, serenely stretching across the mat in total synchronicity with the rest of the flock. Meanwhile I am playing a game of solitary Twister.
Time goes on. We contort ourselves into frogs and trees. I am a warrior. Sweat drips into my eyes and mouth. I start to really wish I had a fucking towel. The swan sweats gracefully beside me floating her feet and extending her arms as if she has rehearsed this choreography before. I am now sweating so much that I contemplate taking off my yoga pants. Would that be weird? What underwear am I wearing? Am I delirious?
75 minutes later it's all over. I am a wet noodle as the swan and I gather our things. The room is definitely not smelling like tea tree oil at this point. I realize that hot yoga reminds me a lot of natural childbirth.
I came home to unsigned Christmas cards, two pairs of boys' pajamas that apparently aren't going to sew themselves, a Christmas Eve dinner menu to plan, a missing stocking to locate, and an Elf who can't seem to keep himself out of trouble.
But if I can survive hot yoga, I'm sure Christmas 2013 will be a piece of cake.
PS: Kate, you bring the towels next time, k?
the elf is sooo cute! Thank you so much for sharing your link with me - I'm thrilled to see it! Look at the joy on your son's face, lifting him out of the box - so adorable! Merry Christmas to your family.
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