Dear Humidity

Hot yoga & I have an interesting relationship.  I wouldn't say I hate it, or actually maybe I would.  Yes, yes I would.  I do hate it.  Well, I hate it, but I love it.  And I keep going back.  And back.  And then back for even more.  The thing about hot yoga is it is never the same.  It can be good, bad, or just be.  And sometimes, like tonight, it is a combination of all three.  It started off great.  I had some trouble with dancer, but after I fell out and then almost fell, I got right back into it.  In fact, I was doing great through triangle (which is not my favorite pose).  Usually if I make it to triangle, I know I'm going to make it!  Tonight I made it through triangle and then pretty much melted into a puddle.  Although melted is maybe too nice of a word.  Splattered maybe?  It is interesting the talks I have with myself when I know I'm having a rough time.  The teacher was fairly good about opening the door (and I had my usual spot near the door).  Each time she opened the door, it was as if the slight breath of air was tangible and I was reaching out to snatch it from the sky and lather it on my body.  Finally we reached the end of class and I wrung out myself and my towel and stepped out of the hot room, expecting the cool evening air to rush up and greet me.  But as I stepped outside all I felt was the humidity hanging in the air.  No relief at all!  Just stickiness.  Hurry up & rain, why don't you?  But thank goodness for A/C! :)  My drive home was nice & cool!