Get Out of My Way.
And the importance of taking up space
Hi. I wanted to share some insights I’ve gained over the first two weeks of July. I hope these stories make you laugh and that the lessons learned feel important.
Last week, I got dumped over text - not by a boyfriend, but someone in that liminal space between boy friend and boyfriend. Not everyone deserves the privilege of that title, so maybe it’s easier to say “I got dumped over text by my flaky pickleball partner.” Or “The Morgan Wallen Apologist ended things with me, so I told him to kick rocks and he responded with a thumbs up emoji.” Or even, “The guy that wears flip flops to nice dinners told me that dating isn’t his priority right now, but the word he left out entirely is “me.” Dating me isn’t his priority right now.
I’m not sharing this because I wish to wallow in my own discontent. I’m also not sharing this to gloat about the fact that my defensive instinct was to respond to his rejection with “kick rocks.” My version of a one-two punch is following up a text like that with a passive Instagram story to a Spotify link of a scathing Taylor Swift song. I am nothing if not self aware. If anything, that was a discredit to my emotional maturity and vulnerability. It stung.
I didn’t want to think about it after the fact. I went to sleep and I woke up the next morning, sluggish and apprehensive about tackling interval training for my half marathon. I set out anyway, and tried to focus my mind on the space between my thoughts, letting my body take over and do its thing. All I kept thinking to myself was, “Get out of my way. Please get out of my way.”
I was running down a straight, flat path, with no one else around. It clicked that chasing down my dreams, metaphorically or literally as I completed my training, would require me removing all of the blocks in my pathway. If you’re not here to run alongside me, you need to get out of my way.
As I’ve eased back into a workout routine that is supportive of my half-marathon training (focused on endurance and mobility), I’ve found myself gravitating towards hot yoga sculpt classes more and more. I’m no stranger to this format - in fact, I’ve booked it on ClassPass 60 times in the past two years.
Hot yoga sculpt is not for the weak. I would compare the intensity of these classes to early 2000s Black Friday Shopping. Instead of a Target, this army of women in matching workout sets are fighting on the frontlines of a heated studio to the stylings of Florence + The Machine and Jay-Z. This shit is serious. On Valentine’s Day this year, as I packed up my mat and bag, I watched a man leave the class, sit down on a bench in the lobby, and proceed to vomit and faint. He ended up being fine. It was really hot and we were doing burpees.
Something I despise when it comes to mat based classes is that most studios will take advantage of this format as an excuse to jam up to 50 people in a room. If there’s even a sliver of floor space between mats, the instructor is going to ask you to make room for whoever decided to show up at 8:29 for an 8:30 class. Trying to find a spot for your mat within the final five minutes before a class starts is like having C Group boarding on a full Southwest flight. There is truly nothing worse than accidentally touching someone’s sweaty toes or getting flicked with sweat from an unspecified source.
Basically, the key is to find the best people to sandwich yourself between. I avoid men at all costs (shirtless, hairy, sweaty, not for me), and I try to stay away from the overachiever soccer moms (I don’t need to be judged for returning to child’s pose if you’re still doing pushups from a high plank, like I’m rooting for you but chill out). Showing up early will ensure getting the spot you want. I like to be close to the wall on the left side of the room. I need to have a clear line to the door because no matter how many classes I take, I will convince myself that this is the class in which I will throw up or shit my pants - I mean, is this not everyone’s concern when they enter a space? Again, I am nothing if not self aware. Front row - you’re cooked if you throw up. Everyone will see. Good luck waddling to the bathroom trying to avoid the middle and back rows doing jumping jacks. However, you can’t show up early and put your mat next to the door. Those spots are reserved for the Work From Home Warriors who can’t be bothered to stay for savasana and drop their hydro flasks while everyone else is meditating. Middle row, closest to the wall, is prime - you can scale the wall like Spider-Man and you draw just enough attention to take everyone away from curtsey lunges without anyone being overly concerned. Like, “she’ll be fine, the lunges were hard but surely she’s not fighting for her life in the bathroom.”
Again, showing up early is vital. Today, class started at 8:30, so I arrived promptly at 8:10. I set my mat down exactly where I want it and locate my accouterments - sweat towel, yogitoe, blocks, bala bangles for my ankles, and water bottle. Surveying the room, I realize I need a ten pound weight. I was not going to skirt away with a set of three pound weights as I had hoped. All of the Hot Yoga Sculpt Soldiers have weights ranging up to twenty pounds, so I follow their lead. As I make my way back to my mat, I notice a woman setting her mat down in front of mine - no, actually on top of mine. The room was mostly empty, so I found this behavior to be a bit weird. She circles to the back of my mat, getting ready to lift it up. I politely inform her that I’m happy to scoot it back and she meets my eyes with a glare. The instructor announces that there are fifteen late cancellations this morning, so we all have plenty of room to spread out and take up space.
“I’m here.” I thought to myself. “I should be taking up space.”
Both of these moments were small, but have shaped the themes of July for me. Where June was all about recovery, July is about progression and taking up space. I envision the rest of this month giving more in relationships that are fulfilling, finding gratitude for those who are showing up for me time and time again, and making room for people who do want to run alongside me.