Last weekend, in an effort to embrace other ways of being active, I tried a hiking yoga class with my sister-in-law Kara at Katy Trail in Dallas. It was exactly what I needed: giant hovering trees, an almost-summer breeze, and just the perfect amount of cardio and strength for someone wanting to take it down a few notches.
Encouraged, I signed up again for Saturday’s class, this time in River Legacy Parks in Arlington with Kara and my friend Amanda. As the class started off toward the trail, I could sense the feeling that was coming but I tried to desperately brush it off. I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine, I mantra-ed. I did this last week so I can do it again this week. No problem.
I fell in love with the atmosphere. I just wanted to press onward and explore the trails, but despite my mantra I could feel it taking me under — the steamy, sickly, dizzy, want-to-crawl-out-of-my-skin sensation I’ve become so acquainted with over the past four months. Continue reading