Hot Yoga.  Two words that might as well be Mountain Climber, as I discovered this morning.   Bruce sent me an Amazon invite a couple of weeks ago for a yoga club that I’ve been wanting to try for quite some time.  We go to a nearby restaurant for breakfast occasionally and each time we go there yoga women come in, all high colored and vigorous from their wonderful yoga outing.  I was intrigued, so when I got that invitation I was hooked immediately.  This morning was my first foray into the Hot Yoga zone.
Very friendly studio people as yoga people generally are.  The teacher was Jack, and  here’s the point of the story right up front:  Jack put the HOT in Hot Yoga.  He was beautiful; shaggy surfer boy hair, blue eyes, great physique.  Before class Jack strolled around with his towel wrapped around his waist like he just got out of the shower and you weren’t entirely sure what you’d be seeing if the towel fell.  Very  friendly, nice guy, good yoga teacher.   Jack put his towel on the floor up in the front as all the teachers do.   About three minutes before class started (I set up 20 minutes early so I could make sure I got a spot in the back near the emergency I-gotta-get-outta-here exit) a young fabulous blonde girl came in.    She was about the same age as Jack (25-ish), long swingy hair, blue eyes, great body; wearing a brilliant turquoise yoga bra and matching turquoise leggings, her bare stomach ripped and tan.   As beautiful as Jack was, she was perhaps even more stunning; lithe, lean, strong girl.  You just knew she was going to do great yoga.

So….. Jack?  That guy was my boyfriend (or one just like him) when I was 25, and I was The Turquoise Girl.   I was the great looking chick that put my towel right up front next to the hot guy so everybody could stare at my fabulous-ness.    I’m trying not to sound vain here, though clearly I do, but most sincerely this is the person I was fortunate enough to be.   Then.  Not anymore.

I looked at her this morning and thought, Hey!  When did I stop being The Turquoise Girl?  I think it was recent too, I think I was still some measure of The Turquoise Girl until about 3 or 4 years ago.    I guess that’s fine, nobody really deserves to be The Turquoise Girl any more than anybody else and it should be temporary so somebody else gets a turn.  I just wish I could have made her listen to me a minute so I could let her know she should appreciate it while she has it.