It’s 7:51 pm on the second day of my yoga teacher training, and I am—unsurprisingly—ready to go to bed. This abrupt and radical shift in my circadian rhythm (I’m accustomed to going to bed past 2:00 am) has been accomplished by a number of things, to wit:
- exhaustion due to intense exercise;
- exhaustion due to intense thought; and
- exhaustion due to intense exercise and intense thought conducted in excessively intense heat.
The heat has been, frankly speaking, absolutely ridiculous. One normally distinguishes between time spent in the shower and time spent out of it by the rather palpable difference in the moisture level of one’s skin. Not so here, where the dampness seems to be a matter of degree. I am perennially soaked, and it’s a difficult state of affairs given:
- the limited amount of clothing I brought to the island due to baggage constraints;
- the dangerous absence of friction when I’m practicing yoga on a sweat-slicked mat; and
- the perennial threat of dehydration since I’m a fairly light drinker.
Of all the challenges I expected to encounter in this training, the Boracay heat was the one I least considered.
I can only hope that there aren’t any more of these kinds of surprises coming my way.