You Might Cry

{I want to work out in a ball gown like Gisele! Très Chic!}

I'm. In. Pain.

Not the kind of pain where you pop an Advil and grab an ice pack and things are all "better in the morning" kind of pain.

I'm talking hook-me-up-to-a-morphine-drip-and-knock-me-out-for-the-next-ten-days kind of pain.

I'm exaggerating a bit, but seriously ya'll...

So last night in a moment of utter insanity, I decided it would be a terrific idea to do the Level 4 "Powerflow" class at our local yoga place. I lurve yoga and it makes my booty look cute in my skinny pants, so I figured, "Why the heck not?"

BIG downward-facing-dog mistake.

Now, let me give you a little rundown of my history with yoga.

Yoga and I, we go way back. For a good couple of years now, I've been a pretty dedicated yogi (I love that term, it reminds me of Jedi for some reason...Star Wars nerd alert.) I mean, it has really helped me to stay lean and flexible and calmed my oh-so-very-Type A personality down significantly.

I thought yoga and I were on the same page.

Until about 7:30 last night when I decided to "take it to the next level."

I knew I was in trouble when some dude in the class asked our instructor, "So, like, if I'm at Level 2 right now, am I gonna like, die if I do this?"

She paused, smirked and coyly said, "You won't die. But you might cry."

She had triceps bigger than my Balenciaga bag. I believed her.

The class began and I was doing great, feeling the burn. About three-quarters of the way through it though, Miss Instructor decided to up the ante. I'm pretty sure I had already blacked out by this point, but I believe she said something to the effect of, "Now we're going to really release those toxins."

I must've had A FREAKING TON of toxins built up, because I'm pretty sure my body hates me today. Every bone, ligament, tendon and muscle in my small, 5'4" frame has officially thrown in the towel.

So yeah, moral(s) of the story:

1) If you would like to find out how it feels to throw down with Tito Ortiz, just go to a Level 4 yoga class, sleep 8 hours and wake up the next morning. I promise, it's equal to a good rear-kicking.

2) Some of us are just meant to stay at Level 3 for the rest of our lives. It's ok. Not everyone can be a Level 4.

And trust me, I'm a-OK with Level 3.

Be blessed, lovelies-

Photo credits: FGR