Member-only story
Hot Yoga Guy
I don’t hate people, I just feel better when they’re not around. — Charles Bukowski
I was taking an online yoga class last night in my second bedroom. (Well maybe more like 1/2 bedroom). But I turned it into my little zen escape room with yoga blocks, candles, aromatherapy, and mood-lighting. There’s only room enough for one yoga mat, which is perfect.
I take classes, late at night, when the kids have gone to bed. JK, I am the kid! And I never go to bed.
So, I might as well exercise, or the demons in my head will exercise first.
I was in the middle of wrapping up a nice hot-flow-fusion or whatever around 11:30pm, followed by a 15-minute meditation on gratitude, which must have worked, because suddenly I found myself saying out loud,
“At least I don’t have to worry about hot yoga guy anymore!”
Back when classes were still legal, and I practiced regularly at my local yoga studio, I was always an anxious wreck when hot yoga guy appeared.
I know, usually that’s the dream: a hot yoga guy you practice next to, bat your eyes at during warrior II, flirt with after class by the electrolyte water- cooler, but for a social-phobic, shy yogi, like yours truly, it’s a total nightmare!
