I’ll admit, when I decided to do this 30 day yoga challenge, I didn’t know what to expect. I knew it would be a challenge, both fitness-wise and time-wise, but had no idea how it would change my relationship with yoga or with my body.

Five days in, and I still don’t know. What I do know, however, is that this is had been a lot harder than I thought.

First: the time commitment. When I decided to do this, I had nothing really on my plate. Work was entering the slow summer period as radio shows winded up their seasons. My fall racing season was over. I had no other real obligations.

Then I got a bit writing project. (Details coming!) And I signed up for the Digital Media Skills certificate at OCAD. All of a sudden, fitting in yoga seems like an impossibility.

Take Tuesday, for example. I woke up at 6:30 to write until 8. Got ready for work. Went to work until 6. Headed to class from 6:30-9:30. Went to yoga from 10-11. Slept over at my sister’s place so I could join JK for a 6:30 class on Wednesday morning.

I am exhausted. Jill tells me it will get better. I don’t believe her.

The fit girl on the right is a liar.

Let’s recap the classes so far. The 30 day challenge kicked off on Saturday and I went to Power Yoga at Kula, taught by Serah. I enjoyed the class, as it was challenging by fun. I woke up the next day and my entire rib cage ached. From the twists, I guess? On Sunday, I hit up Kula’s live music flow with JK, as Mr. JK is the live musical guest. Solid class, not much to say. Typical Jen Slade fare. On Monday, I tried a new class and took my Passport to Prana to the Yoga for Hot hour. This is where things fell apart. Apparently my arms are not fans of this constant yoga-ing. It’s interesting to see how unbalanced my fitness is — anything requiring lower body strength, I can hold for 20 breaths without breaking a sweat. But ask me to do plank after 5 days of yoga? I’m a dead person. The class was fine — lots of flows and twists — but the room was hot, hot, hot. When the hour was over, my fingers were pruned (ewwwww) and I had left a giant pool of sweat all around my mat. (I mopped it up, I swear!)

Tuesday was bedtime yoga with Linseed, my favourite. Due to the aforementioned schedule, I missed her hot hour and took the flow class. Same vibe, without the heat. I was so grateful for that. I was not grateful for planks. (I better have biceps after these 30 days. Or else.) But it prepped me for bedtime. Yay sleep!

Then, we came to Tuesday morning. Hot hour at Kula. No big deal, right?

Wrong.

Hardest hot hour ever.

I have never wanted to cry in yoga before. That changed this morning. This class was like Ashtanga with the heat cranked up. Way up. Chair, plank, chair, plank, chair, plank. Chair. Chair. chairchairchairchair. Push-ups! I think I would have enjoyed the challenge on any other day. Marinella was a great teacher, a good mix of chill yet playful. But after what felt like the 87th time in chair this morning, I wanted to punch something. I felt like I was being punished, and I didn’t know why.

But I survived. Now I need a restorative class. Or two. Because I have no idea how I’m going to make it through all 30 days right now.