How 6 Hours of Yoga Transformed My Mentality
The case for immersing yourself in something you love
For two weeks before the yoga festival, I was in excruciating pain. Lying down hurt, straightening my legs involved help from my hands, and my upper back was impossibly tight. I halved my weekly yoga practice and took a break from running. The iPad I used at work felt heavy, not to mention the multiple boxes I had to move, shuffle around, and unpack all day. I was exhausted — from overtraining or something else, I don’t know.
When my alarm went off at 5:30 on the day of the festival, I debated turning it off and going back to sleep—looking at the schedule to learn that the first class was actually at 6:00 and not 6:30 seemed to justify this decision even more. How would I get dressed, get caffeinated, and drive to the festival grounds in 30 minutes? I felt committed to the class, so I quickly got dressed, grabbed my mat, and went straight to the car. Fortunately, it was only a ten-minute drive.
It was pitch black. The only lights surrounded the registration tent. I gave them my name, received my wristband, and headed over to Stage 2 right on time. As someone who is perpetually early, this pained me. When it started to drizzle, I regretted my decision. What was I doing here? I hate rain. Begrudgingly, I rolled my mat out next to…
