there's a yoga studio down the street from my apartment.
Mr. REA and i were out on a walk the other night when we passed by it.
new members only : 30 days for $50
Mr. REA:
do you want to sign up?
i'll pay for it.
it'll be a gift.
oh Mr. REA, a gift like the workout clothes you gave me for my birthday? that kind of a 'gift'?
Me:
yah! thank you! this will be so fun. you're the best boyfriend ever.
yay.
i sign up.
i pay the non-refundable $50 of Mr. REA's money.
and then i read the fine print,
or rather large bold print,
stating that this studio is Bikram yoga.
Bikram yoga, in case you don't know, is the kind where the room is heated and can reach temperatures up to 110 degrees.
you will sweat from every pore in your body.
you may pass out.
your feet will slip all over the mat. unless you have any sort of muscle tone to keep you in place, which i do not.
someone may fart.
and you may soffocate.
in order to make the most of this generous gift, i have challenged myself to go 30 times in 30 days. some of the days i have already skipped, which means that on some days, i will have to go twice.
what the heck have i agreed to?
