Well, I was right about needing some rest. And wrong about going out anyway. After 2 challenging classes, the first with one of my favorite teachers, Rusty Wells, my body was done. (If you’re ever in San Francisco, you MUST go take his class. You and 100 of his adoring fans will sweat, sing and bring your body to places unimagined. And your heart will float in a warm pool of gooey love. It is pure bliss!) Although I felt spent halfway through the first class, not wanting to miss any part of this great opportunity, I persevered. (Note to self: no more late nights at the hot bars.)

I decided to try a short nap after lunch, before the last class of the day. Instead I was lured into my fabulous hotel bathtub, and missed class altogether. (Bad yogi. I missed Rusty's class, called Crumble, where he really goes for it, and you better be in top form.) I was definitely feeling crumbled, crushed and on the verge of collapse.

Although I felt guilty for wasting a chance at some great yoga, my afternoon blossomed beautifully. The bath really did hit the spot. I then spent the evening with my yoga community, watching an amazing demonstration by Shiva Rea, yogini extraordinaire, and singing with Steve Ross, a yogi and musician whose work I’ve always admired. The buzzing night life called to me, but I took a rain check. A good night’s sleep was sorely needed.