I knew better. I really did. But I thought I should keep an open mind about our new gym (minus the whole cleanliness thing). I was excited to have the opportunity to do cardio, yoga, pilates, and kettlebell classes all at the same place. But after attending both a yoga and a pilates class I was seriously disappointed. Neither class was challenging, and if I’m going to spend my time working out, it better be worth it. So I moved on to my next option, Studio 42. Guess what the 42 stands for? 42 degrees, Celsius, that is. Add 60 to that and you will have a rough estimate of the temperature in Farenheit. Yeah, you’re right, that’s hot. It would be about the same as doing yoga outside in Iowa right now, which probably isn’t a pleasant thought for most of you. Interestingly enough, Studio 42 is a hot yoga AND pilates studio. While I have done hot yoga, I have never done hot pilates, but I was willing to give it a try. Here’s how it went…
I walked into the studio to find a blond Norwegian woman in tight purple workout gear (she would be my instructor). I signed in, put my stuff in locker, took a deep breath of (semi) fresh air, and then prepared myself for the hot, and most likely, smelly room (turns out it wasn’t that bad). From the look of our instructor, I thought I might have gotten lucky; she looked like she knew what she was doing, if you know what I mean. However, I got a little nervous during our warm-up, I started to get a scary notion that we were going to do a rain dance with 2 lb weights in our hands. She was all about flow and rhythm, two things I don’t do well with. And I don’t dance (unless I have had a few drinks). And I definitely wasn’t going to dance to bring more rain; I’ve had my fill. For the last two weeks this weather had made me want to do nothing but curl up with a blanket, some hot chocolate and a chick flick.
All in all, the class was interesting… it did get smelly (the guy behind me had nothing on but his tight undies – note to self: keep mat away from his), but I didn’t pass out from that or the heat, which was a plus. It was a pretty good work out — but nothing like classical pilates — which was a bummer. I choose to do pilates at home because I like the way it makes me feel. Strong. Lean. Balanced. I like the structure of pilates; Joseph Pilates was all about structure (thumbs up for that dude). And I really like that there is a right and wrong way to do it. While I know there will probably never be a day that I will be able to do everything correctly, there’s comfort in knowing the practice is worth it. The challenge is high and the competition is with myself.
Oh well… hot yoga, it is. I’ll practice Joseph on my own.
BTW… Living here is like doing everything with my left hand. It’s going to take some time to become efficient (which is annoying).
Every time I get in the shower the shower head falls to about chest high; every time I move it back up I pray that it stays put. Squatting while showering doesn’t seem that appealing.
I still haven’t figured out the oven. I’m pretty sure I broke it today.
Even the tupperware makes me feel stupid. I swear like sailor every time I try to get the lid on the container. I just don’t understand why it hates me so much.
I will never take a dryer for granted again. I don’t have the patience for line drying.
Grocery shopping can be exhausting. Mostly because I spend an hour roaming the store trying to find the three things on my list. I’ve been too stubborn to ask where things are because I don’t want anyone thinking I’m a stupid American. I should just give in. I have a feeling they already know…
For the first two weeks, every time I turned on the sink I got wet. The water pressure is ridiculous and the sinks are too shallow to handle it. Someone, somewhere is laughing at me… It actually reminds of Ashten rubber-banding the sprayer on the sink. Gets me every damn time.
Farewell, friends. Jay is suppose to be writing his blog about our trip to Bath this past weekend, I’ll keep pestering him about it (practicing for my wifely duties) — What an amazing place!