Hot Yoga and a Humbling: A 30-Day Journey

You know those Instagram ads for workout challenges that make you think, Maybe this could be my thing? Maybe this is my moment to become that person—hydrated, centered, effortlessly toned? Yeah, me too. And like any delusional optimist, I took the bait.

At the start of the school year, my housemate would dash out the door, yoga mat in hand, and return an hour later glowing—like, post-facial, just-landed-in-Mykonos glowing. Normally, I dismiss yoga because I crave a workout that makes me feel like I’ve survived a minor emergency. But since my sister and I both have scoliosis, I figured, why not? Worst case, I’m down ten bucks and mildly embarrassed.

So, off we went—two skeptics trudging into a community hot yoga class. Upon arrival, the studio owner greeted us, gave us a tour, and handed us borrowed mats (glamorous). We stepped into the HOT room, and let me tell you—humility hit immediately.

Every time I try a new workout class, I experience the same selective amnesia that allows women to have multiple children. I forget how humbling it is to be bad at something. My sister and I posted up in the back, huffing, puffing, sweating harder than anyone in the class would deem necessary had they turned around and looked at the state of us. Halfway through, I was internally composing my will.

And yet… I was hooked.

There’s something about having a challenge that makes me want to double down. Maybe it was my aching back. Maybe it was the promise of improved flexibility. Maybe it was the sheer delusion that if I kept at it, I’d morph into one of those chic pilates girls who wear matching sets and drink green juice unironically.

Either way, I made an internal vow: I would complete all 30 classes (barring illness or travel—balance, people).

Week one? Overconfident. Booked 6 a.m. classes like I was auditioning for a Lululemon campaign. Actually woke up for them, but savasana felt more like a nap than a mindful reset.

Week two? Progress. I stopped collapsing every five minutes and actually embraced the heat instead of treating it like a personal attack.

By the halfway mark, I was waiting for class every day. When I had to miss one for a conference in Toronto, I pouted. Who was I?!

Get this, I finished. 27 out of 30 classes. And more shocking? I signed up for a 6 month-long membership.

I won’t lie—this was so far outside my comfort zone it had its own postal code. I don’t like trying things unless I think I’ll be good at them. But learning to show up, struggle, and keep going? That changed something in me.

Plus, when do we ever give ourselves an hour with no distractions? No to-do lists, no endless scrolling—just breath, movement, and presence. Turns out, that’s kind of life-changing.

So, if you’ve been hovering over the Start Free Trial button, wondering if you’ll look stupid? Do it. Feel dumb and do it anyway. Because one day, you’ll be 20 minutes early for class, claiming your spot at the front of the room—and trust me, that version of you will be so proud.

XO, Charlotte