Asses Asses Everywhere.....

So before I begin with the Hot yoga post, I just want to say a few things.
Last night I got into a discussion with some other people regarding an issue I'm extremely passionate about.
I did not agree with what they said, so I expressed my own opinion.
I grant you, my opinion was dripping in sarcasm, and I may have used the words "tree hugging", but not vulgar by any stretch of the imagination.
 I am a great believer in the Charter of Rights and Freedoms. I think that hundreds and hundreds of men and women have died so that you and I can express ourselves freely.
I was shocked and furious when I was censored by the site administrator for being offensive. She didn't just censor me, but everyone who had anything to say about the issue. A total power move.
Anyway, I have given this too much of my time and attention. If this wine guzzling, fake tan,Barbie doll  Stepford,plastic,bored shithead wants to have her own little circle jerk, go nuts. I have my own, and we don't infringe on your rights and freedoms here. :)

Now back to uncensored awesomeness.....

I have been trying to drop a few pounds before my running class starts on Monday,so I don't have to wear my Spanx to jog, and I had heard all about how amazing hot yoga is for weight loss.
Seemed like my kinda deal, sit in a nice warm room, sweat a little, stretch and listen to soft music.
The studio was so serene, and had free tea, fruit and mats.
Sounded like a vacation.

When I got to the studio, the first thing I noticed was my clothes.
I was dressed like a bum.
(or an exhausted mom, its pretty much the same thing some days)
My faded pair of Walmart yoga Capri's, and an ancient Old Navy tank top. I was immediately surrounded by a sea of Lycra, in eye piercingly loud colors,all sporting that goofy symbol that reminds me that the company that makes those clothes meets the criteria for cult status.

(I'm serious. Go do some reading. It'll make you think twice before you shell out 120 bucks to wear sweatpants.)

Also I was the only person with a plastic disposable water bottle, which made most of the girls look at me like I was toting around a dead puppy. FML

I rolled out my mat,in the very back of the class, and took a few mins to enjoy the warmth, the low lighting and the soothing Asian music. Just give me a glass of wine and I'd be set.
Besides,when you live with a 9 month old who can scoot around like greased lighting, any quiet,still moment is like winning the lottery.

The instructor comes into the room, and is also cloaked in Culty Spandex. Microscopic scraps of Culty Spandex that probably cost more than my car payment. I immediately dislike her.

So its not too warm in the room, just nice. The poses are okay, hard but not too bad.
I go down in my plank pose, then up to cobra and BAM!

The handle bars ALL came out. Rows and rows of sweaty asses, sucked into Culty Lycra, with thongs riding so high I was shocked they weren't slicing the girls in half.

The girls and I have talked about thongs and full backs under leggings, but this was crazy.
 I am almost positive the instructor was mud-flapping it (no underwear) as her shorts could have doubled as dental floss.

So up and down I went, sun salutation,downward dog, runner, plank, cobra, THONGS.
Sun salutation, downward dog, runner, plank, cobra, THONGS.
Who wears a lilac lace thong to hot yoga? Unbelievable.
There is no wicking capability there...like none.

About halfway through the class, someone opened the door to Hell and things got crazy.
I was sweating EVERYWHERE, and thought I was going to pass right out.
 Nice first yoga class, pass out in a hot,sweaty mess while the cult bunnies are just glistening like perfect thong wearing, Lycra wrapped rotisserie chickens.

Knowing my luck I would have let out the giant fart I was holding in the whole class just to really solidify my dead puppy carrying, sweaty homeless woman ensemble I was inadvertently going for.

I can barely hold up my downward dog, my feet are soaked and wrinkly.
I did a move backwards, as my cognition was slipping away, and the chick besides me smartly tells me "You're doing it wrong".
If she was 10 years younger, I would have flicked my sweaty hand across her face, but in my messy state, I wasn't sure I could have kicked her greased up old ass. No one wants to get beat up by a grandma in 300 dollar active wear.

Finally Mud Flap Yogi calls it a day.
An hour has elapsed, and I almost passed out 3 times.
I sit in my child's pose, noisily dripping sweat on my mat like a leaky faucet.
 My clothes are soaked, and I'm panting like a dog. I managed to do most of the poses, and only laughed at the instructor once when she tried to get me to do this super crazy move where I was only balancing on the ball of one foot. Yeah, I'll get right on that.

I did feel pretty good afterward, but I get the same feeling after sitting in the sauna for a half hour. And there are no soggy thongs staring me in the face there.
Clear winner in my opinion.
I will take the creepy leering old men in the Sauna anyday.

Not too many thongs in there thank goodness.