May 24, 2013

Yoga: A Tale of Ass Juice, Peen Stains, and Gin Sweat

I love yoga...specifically hot yoga. It's one of the few physical activities I feel like I'm actually pretty good at. That being said, my history of practicing yoga has been a series of seriously unfortunate (and excruciatingly embarrassing) events....ESPECIALLY as of recently. These aren't your normal, to be expected yoga mishaps either. You know, like a camel toe from your yoga pants or a loud fart/queef that slips out when you're in the ol' happy baby pose...these are a totally different breed of inappropriate yoga mishaps.

The Happy Baby pose...I mean COME ON...

The first time I went to a heated yoga class was in college. One of the girls I worked with at the time mentioned a heated yoga class that she had heard about and was dying to try. She said the room was heated to 105 degrees and the heat was supposed to help you sweat out your toxins and loosen your muscles up...I figured the heat would also help distract me from all the "OHM" chanting (which I've always found totally awkward) so I agreed and we made a plan to go on a Sunday morning around 8:00, before our shifts at work.

Well...the heat DEFINITELY had me sweating out all my toxins because the night before I had gotten HAMMERED...on gin (possibly the worst smelling booze out there)..and I was sweating that shit out of every single one of my pores. Not only did I smell like a homeless man at an AA meeting, I was also severely dehydrated and on the verge of passing out after every downward dog.

Even though my first attempt at hot yoga was extremely unpleasant, I continued to go until Joe and I moved. Then I was on the hunt for a new yoga studio...but having heated classes was a requirement and those are pretty rare up here in the sticks...After months of searching, I finally found a studio in the college town nearby that offered the heated classes I had been missing.

I was so excited the day of my first class at the new studio...and really nervous about going to a place I had never been before. It was a full house. The place was packed.  I signed in, paid my drop-in fee, found an open spot, rolled out my mat and this is what I found:

I can't make this up

Is it just me? Or does that stain look like a brown penis wearing a Mickey Mouse hat?

How did I stain my yoga mat? Well I've always kept it in the car. Sometimes in the trunk, sometimes in the back, sometimes on the floor on the passenger's side. It's a pain in the ass to lug the damn thing inside the house after every class...so this way it's always ready to go. I'm also a bit of a car slob. I throw shit everywhere...coffee cups, water bottles, granola bar wrappers. I'm guessing the peen stain was the result of a Vanilla Chai or Mocha Latte spill.

BUT WAIT. There's more.

Last week I went to my usual Sunday morning class, rolled out my yoga mat and a pungent stench emerged from the mat, completely filling the room. The smell was familiar...but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I could feel the chick next to me staring and everyone else in the 105 degree room judging me as the smelly girl in class (which is saying a lot...because no one smells particularly GOOD in such a hot environment, sweating their balls off). I pushed through the smell, despite the fact that it was getting significantly worse as it BAKED in the heat and mixed with everyone's B.O. About halfway through the class it hit me...Rosie (our dainty American Bulldog) SQUIRT all over my mat...probably while it was in the back seat of my car.

For those of you who don't know what a "squirt" is...simply put...it's anal juice...that leaks out my dogs ASS HOLE.  It definitely has a one of a kind scent...a scent that has no place in a yoga studio. I know the smell well, as Rosie squirts every time she's scared...and she's a huge weeny. It would make sense that she would squirt in my vehicle because she's TERRIFIED of tractor trailers...every time one passes, squirts happen. My car quite often smells like her ass juice. I should have known better.

It may seem like I'm a glutton for punishment returning to yoga every week...but I love it and always think it can't get any worse! So I keep going...and glorious things like these continue to happen.

At least I'm not queefing.

Oh...and I'm in the market for a new yoga mat.

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