I'm lying on the floor, rocking side to side with my knees clenched tightly to my chest, face red-hot to the touch and damp with tears. I'm not alone. The room is alive with 20 other women doing the exact same thing. Somewhere between "Oh my God, I can't do this" and "Why do I feel so hot—is anyone else this hot!?" a thought arises that actually brings a smile to my surely contorted face: "On a scale of 1 to 10, how different is this from my usual Saturday at 3 p.m. routine?"
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