Sometimes I read, sometimes I stretch, but mostly I let my mind go blank and seemingly empty out through my pores-a major feat, considering how ten minutes on a meditation mat will leave me running through all the ways anyone has ever wronged me. That anxiety has since dissipated, but visiting the sauna remains my favorite weekly ritual. I’d enter mad, nude, and red and miraculously emerge, an hour later, just nude and red. A few years ago, I discovered an antidote to the dread for the upcoming workweek that would inevitably subsume me every Sunday: shutting myself in a 170 degree box in the basement of my YMCA.
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