Euphoric > pretty

Aka hot yoga and self reflection

I am not pretty right now, but I am feeling awfully euphoric.

My face is tomato red, my hair dripping wet, my skin saltier than the sea, and the deodorant that was once in my armpit is now caked around my ankles.

I just did a hot yoga sculpt class at Yoga Box.

It was hard in the moment but the competitor in me is starting to remember it as a fun time, easy enough. Although, there was more jumping than I anticipated and I didn’t wear the right bra.

The sculpt body and core yoga was more like a HIIT class than yoga (in my opinion), which is something I didn’t know until now. I wouldn’t have had it any other way. In fact, I enjoyed it more than a traditional yoga class. 

It did still incorporate the same shavasana, or as I like to call it, mindless meditation, at the end of the practice. This is something I have a hard time connecting with. I always seem to have thoughts swirling around my brain that interrupt the silence. It takes so much focus to try to be unfocused that it seems contradicting to the point, but this might just be a me thing. 

What I did connect with, however, was the puddle of sweat I left behind on and around my mat. Twinges of disgust and embarrassment started to build in me and I wanted to cauterize the mat as soon as I stepped off. I know that’s not really the right word, I just like the sound of it. 

You see, I have always been a sweaty person. I’ve become more accepting and unfazed by this fact with age, and I knew it was okay to sweat here since the room is purposefully set at a higher temperature. That didn’t stop me from rushing to mop up the evidence with a towel as soon as the class was over.

Once I emerged to fresh air, saw everyone else in broad daylight looking just as sweaty as me, and began driving home, I couldn’t help but be lost in thought. A mindless thought at that. I was experiencing a, dare I say, euphoric feeling. 

It’s something I’m sure I’ve felt before, but rare enough that I can’t put my finger on exactly what it is. I didn’t feel anxious; almost a bit sad, but more so content. 

A feeling that I liked myself just a little bit more now than I did when I woke up this morning. 

I feel extremely grateful for my body, my health, and my ability to be bold trying something new not just by myself, but for myself.

It’s an amazing thing to surprise yourself and have fun doing so. And it may be as fleeting as waves of confidence seem to be, so I decided to write about it.

This feeling is different today, at this moment, because I don’t feel pretty. That’s not where the confidence is coming from. On the outside I feel sweaty and gross, on the inside I feel strong and proud.

In a world where it can be hard not to compare yourself to others, whether it’s based on how you look or how successful you may or may not be, it’s comforting to know that’s not actually all that matters and definitely not the only way to emote positive feelings toward yourself. 

Now, I do desperately need to go shower away this sweat and grime, but hopefully not this feeling.