yoga

one word: yoga. 

I realized something the other day...my hobbies disappeared. 

painting? running? triathlons? socializing? volunteering?

Where did they go?

Other than people watching, my hobbies are pretty limited. That's why I got a hot yoga pass at

  Power Yoga in downtown Salt Lake. That's right. Hot yoga.

Don't judge too quickly. I know what you're thinking. Hot yoga applies only to those morally opposed to meat and traditional gyms. 

Not true. 

No, I'm not vegan. Yes, I have a gym pass. No, I'm not super limber. No, I do not have a cute tattoo of a butterfly or crescent moon on my ankle or lower back. But I am converted to this therapeutic form of exercise.

I've been several times, and each time I exit the room, I feel cleansed and uplifted. It's rather a neat experience. Two dozen bodies packed in this hole-in-the-wall apartment, releasing stressful, negative energy in return for positive, empowering energy--all the while sweating, profusely.  

It's funny, after only an hour of sweating and chanting together, these strangers don't feel like strangers anymore. 

After dozens of animal-like poses and stretches, I introduce to you a new woman. 

Okay, not really, but it still feels really great.

Namaste.