http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7nhGVxVCxxc

Have a great weekend lovelies… I’ll be in Mexico (sending a smoke signal up to Edna) all of next week but will resume business as usual on Monday, October 10th.

XO!

… to Fiona for being the first instructor I’ve heard play RENT during class! Yes!

Oh, and for kicking our butts too, oui.

Oh, and for those of you who haven’t noticed, we have another blogger on board! Aaron will now be joining the conversation and adding his voice to the YB blog. Weeeeeelcome, Aaron!!

If you have been in the studio this week you have seen a new addition to the Yoga Belly experience. We’ve upgraded our disco ball to the next level! In case you have ever wondered why we have a disco ball in the studio I should give you a little background info. Way back in the day William and I had a little business called Club Yoga. A workshop that combined dance and yoga that we would go around to different studio’s and play dance music and set up these 4 little plug in disco balls w/ built in lights that were on a stand and about the size of your fist balled up. We would place our little balls around the room and William would teach inspired dance sequences using your favorite yoga poses. We were trying to blend fun, movement and a light-hearted approach to yoga. For a while Club Yoga was on the schedule at YogaSource Palo Alto on Wednesday nights (A special plug for our good friends at YogaSource, we love them). When William and I decided to take the playfulness to the next level and start our own yoga studio one of the first decisions we made was to put in a disco ball with lights so the studio would convert easily to a party. This is the foundation of Yoga Belly philosophy… Work hard, play hard, have fun, enjoy the life that you have been given and make yoga a part of your life. Yoga will accentuate your existence making your life better, fuller and stronger.
As part of the changes that you will see taking place around the studio in year 2 of Yoga Belly, the first is a bigger ball. Start at the core and work your way out. We have some exciting plans in store for you in the coming year. Thank you for your patronage and next time your frustrated that you can’t float with grace into some of the more difficult yoga poses, look up and see the giant disco ball and remember…it’s not that serious, you’re practicing yoga under our giant shiny ball. So if your preference is the smaller balls or the new bigger balls… Smile and enjoy your experience in the studio!
Much Love,
Aaron

… this one comes with a pretty detailed usage history. Hilarious! Enjoy : )

Yoga mat for sale. Used once at lunch hour class in December 2009. Usage timeline as follows:

11:45a
Register for hot yoga class. Infinite wisdom tells me to commit to 5 class package and purchase a yoga mat. I pay $89.74. Money well spent, I smugly confirm to myself.

11:55a
Open door to yoga room. A gush of hot dry air rushes through and past me. It smells of breath, sweat and hot. Take spot on floor in back of room next to cute blonde. We will date.

11:57a
I feel the need to be as near to naked as possible. This is a problem because of the hot blonde to my left and our pending courtship. She will not be pleased to learn that I need to lose 30 pounds before I propose to her.

11:58a
The shirt and sweats have to come off. I throw caution to the wind and decide to rely on my wit and conditioning to overcome any weight issues my fiancée may take issue with. This will take a lot of wit and conditioning.

11:59a
Begin small talk with my bride to be. She pretends to ignore me but I know how she can be. I allow her to concentrate and stare straight ahead and continue to pretend that I don’t exist. As we finish sharing our special moment, I am suddenly aware of a sweat moustache that has formed below my nose. This must be from the all the whispering between us.

12:00p
Instructor enters the room and ascends her special podium at the front of the room. She is a slight, agitated Chinese woman. She introduces me to the class and everyone turns around to greet me just as I decide to aggressively adjust my penis and testes packed in my Under Armor. My bride is notably unfazed.

12:02p
Since I do have experience with Hot Yoga (4 sessions just 5 short years ago) I fully consider that I may be so outstanding and skilled that my instructor may call me out and ask me to guide the class. My wife will look on with a sparkle in her eye. We will make love after class.

12:10p
It is now up to 95 degrees in the room. We have been practicing deep breathing exercises for the last 8 minutes. This would not be a problem if we were all breathing actual, you know, oxygen. Instead, we are breathing each other’s body odor, expelled carbon dioxide and other unmentionables. (Don’t worry, I’ll mention them later.)

12:26p
It is now 100 degrees and I take notice of the humidity, which is hovering at about 90%. I feel the familiar adorning stare of my bride and decide to look back at her. She appears to be nauseated. I then realize that I forgot to brush my teeth prior to attending this class. We bond.

12:33p
It is now 110 degrees and 95% humidity. I am now balancing on one leg with the other leg crossed over the other. My arms are intertwined and I am squatting. The last time I was in this position was 44 years ago in the womb, but I’m in this for the long haul. My wife looks slightly weathered dripping sweat and her eyeliner is streaming down her face. Well, “for better or worse” is what we committed to so we press on.

12:40p
The overweight Hispanic man two spots over has sweat running down his legs. At least I think its sweat. He is holding every position and has not had a sip of water since we walked in. He is making me look bad and I hate him.

12:44p
I consider that if anyone in this room farted that we would all certainly perish.

12:52p
It is now 140 degrees and 100% humidity. I am covered from head to toe in sweat. There is not a square millimeter on my body that is not slippery and sweaty. I am so slimy that I feel like a sea lion or a maybe sea eel. Not even a bear trap could hold me. The sweat is stinging my eyeballs and I can no longer see.

12:55p
This room stinks of asparagus, cloves, tuna and tacos. There is no food in the room. I realize that this is an amalgamation of the body odors of 30 people in a 140 degree room for the last 55 minutes. Seriously, enough with the asparagus, ok?

1:01p
140 degrees and 130% humidity. Look, bitch, I need my space here so don’t get all pissy with me if I accidentally sprayed you with sweat as I flipped over. Seriously, is that where this relationship is going? Get over yourself. We need counseling and she needs to be medicated. Stat!

1:09p
150 degrees and cloudy. And hot. I can no longer move my limbs on my own. I have given up on attempting any of the commands this Chinese chick is yelling out at us. I will lay sedentary until the aid unit arrives. I will buy this building and then have it destroyed.
I lose consciousness.

1:15p
I have a headache and my wife is being a selfish bitch. I can’t really breathe. All I can think about is holding a cup worth of hot sand in my mouth. I cannot remember what an ice cube is and cannot remember what snow looks like. I consider that my only escape might be a crab walk across 15 bodies and then out of the room. I am paralyzed, and may never walk again so the whole crab walk thing is pretty much out.

1:17p
I cannot move at all and cannot reach my water. Is breathing voluntary or involuntary? If it’s voluntary, I am screwed. I stopped participating in the class 20 minutes ago. Hey, lady! I paid for this frickin class, ok?! You work for me! Stop yelling at everyone and just tell us a story or something. It’s like juice and cracker time, ok?

1:20p
It is now 165 degrees and moisture is dripping from the ceiling. The towel that I am laying on is no longer providing any wicking or drying properties. It is actually placing additional sweat on me as I touch it. My towel reeks. I cannot identify the smell but no way can it be from me. Did someone spray some stank on my towel or something?

1:30p
Torture session is over. I wish hateful things upon the instructor. She graciously allows us to stay and ‘cool down’ in the room. It is 175 degrees. Who cools down in 175 degrees? A Komodo Dragon? My wife has left the room. Probably to throw up.

1:34p
My opportunity to escape has arrived. I roll over to my stomach and press up to my knees. It is warmer as I rise up from ground level – probably by 15 degrees. So let’s conservatively say it’s 190. I muster my final energy and slowly rise. One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other. Towards the door. Towards the door.

1:37p
The temperature in the lobby is 72 degrees. Both nipples stiffen to diamond strength and my penis begins to retract into my abdomen from the 100 degree temp swing. I can once again breathe though so I am pleased. I spot my future ex wife in the lobby. We had such a good thing going but I know that no measure of counseling will be able to unravel the day’s turmoil and mental scaring.

1:47p
Arrive at Emerald City Smoothie and proceed to order a 32 oz beverage. 402 calories, 0 fat and 14 grams of protein — effectively negating any caloric burn or benefit from the last 90 minutes. I finish it in 3 minutes and spend the next 2 hours writing this memoir.

3:47p
Create Craigslist ad while burning final 2 grams of protein from Smoothie and before the “shakes” consume my body.

4:29p
Note to self – check car for missing wet yoga towel in am.

• Location: Bellevue
• it’s NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

Happy Friday all!

Rick Mereki spent 44 days taking 18 flights to 11 countries, and his videos make me want to grab my passport and take the next plane to anywhere. Aren’t the images inspiring?

Disclaimer: I spend most of my day with teenagers. I am not to be trusted on YouTube.

Watch at your own risk!

What an amazing weekend to kick off our first in a series of Weekend Getaways featuring your favorite Yoga Belly Instructors. Thank you to everyone that came out and honored William and I with their presence at the Spirit House. Located just 30 minutes North of San Francisco it was a quick drive away but it felt like being whisked away to another world. Located on top of a hill, the Spirit House is overlooking a rolling valley, we dined on catered food provided by Barefoot Café located in Fairfax, Ca. William kicked off our weekend with a Yoga Belly class. Everyone came back from the Yurt sweaty and ready to jump right in to Happy Hour. You know how a glass of wine after a yoga class is, okay!?!? By the time dinner arrived I was in the kitchen getting things ready and conversation had swelled to an intense level of laughter and getting to know each other. This set the pace for the coming days…. Food, Yoga, , Happy Hour, Games, Laughter, Sleep, Hot Tub….What a weekend! At the beginning of the weekend we let everyone know to “take what you need with you.” The weekend was designed to be a balance of yoga, relaxation and party. We had hoped that it’s was just what people needed to recharge the soul before going back to their normal lives. It was up to them to be self aware and participate where they saw fit and rest when needed. I think we accomplished this and more. Thanks again everyone that came out and made the event such a huge success.

I wasn’t the only one who showed up yesterday at 11:40 and had that forehead-slapping moment of “Oh yeah! I’m 30 minutes late!”

I was in good company, but in case any of you are in danger of repeating my scheduling mistake, don’t forget that the schedule changes Will and Aaron emailed us about are taking effect this week. The website has NOT yet been updated, so don’t let that fool you! The live schedule is updated and accurate, so please refer to it when planning your workout. The website is soon to follow.

Happy Hump Day!

Image courtesy of Lokayoga.com

Sometimes it feels like I’m late for something every day of my life… I spend a decent amount of time running around like a chicken with my head cut off, and no, the irony of rushing to yoga so I can relax does not escape me. And running around on weekends! Oui. Crazy talk.

Though I feel late, sometimes I’m. Not. And when I am, who. Cares. Deep. Breath.