A friend gave me a gift certificate to Bikram Yoga, also known as "hot yoga". The premise is simple: you do yoga in a room that is designed to heat up to 42 degrees Celsius. I’ve done yoga before so have a rough idea of how it works. I do cardio 3-4 times a week, eat (reasonably) healthy, so when my friend gave me the gift certificate, I thought, sure, why not?
I packed my gym bag and headed over to the yoga studio after work.The first thing that struck me is how quiet it was. A man behind the counter instructed me to take off my shoes, and fill out some forms. “First time?” he asks.
“Kinda.” I reply.
“You’ll love it,” he says. “Just watch the other students, remember to breathe properly, and here’s the hardest part: try to stay through the entire session.”
What does he mean by try stay the entire session? Why wouldn’t I?
I ponder this as I head toward the back of the studio and into the women’s change room. I opened the door to the change room and had to take a step back. The smell wasn’t dirty exactly, but a bit rubbery maybe and like gyms, had a faint smell of sweat.
The room is lined with benches and sitting on one of the benches were two girls waiting to get into the same session I was heading into. Trying to get a beat on things, I say, “It’s my first class here...any words of advice?”
The taller of the two girls looks at me and replies, “It’s my second class and I didn’t make it through my first one. The session is 90 minutes long - about 30 minutes too long for me. It’s intense.”
I thank the girl for her advice and quickly get changed. I’m a little nervous now. That’s the second time someone has referenced it being difficult to stay the entire class. How tough can 90 minutes of Bikram Yoga be?
I soon find out. The session ahead of us finishes and out comes a group of sticky, smelly, drenched in their own sweat men and women. I take a deep breath and armed with my towel, yoga mat and water bottle, step into the room.
Softly lit, the walls are lined with floor-to-ceiling mirrors. It`s also quiet. I turn to ask another student a question and she quickly puts her fingers to her lips. “We’re not supposed to talk in here,” she whispers. Seeing that I’m new, she takes the yoga mat and towel from my hands and lays them down onto the floor for me. I smile and nod to thank her for helping me. “Good luck,” she mouths.
I look around and see other students lying down on their yoga mats, so I do the same. The room fills quickly and before I know it, there are 23 of us lying on the floor.
I have been on my mat for only a few minutes, but already, I can feel myself sweating. What have I gotten myself into?
I’ve barely formed this thought when the yoga instructor walks in. He greets the class and acknowledges four of us by name - all first timers to the class. “Do whatever it is you need to - lie down, take a sip of water, but please do try to stay in the room for the entire class. And remember: breathe through your nose.”
Oh boy.
Slowly, we get into the exercises. Okay, so far so good. I follow the instructor as he explains each one, being careful to watch myself in the mirror to make sure I am getting the poses right.
I have trouble getting my hands and feet into the positions they’re supposed to be in, so I watch the other students, copying what they do, when I notice it. Their focused yet unfocused expressions: they are all here, but not. They are all lost within their own thoughts, struggling to get into position, or in most cases, stay in position.
I soon become lost in my own thoughts, trying to breathe through my nose. I am bending myself and trying to keep from falling, all the while dripping sweat onto the floor. I look up, trying to find a clock on the wall, but no. Time does not exist here. Only focus and breathing.
I open my water bottle and take a deep gulp. The water soothes me a little and I keep on going. I have no idea how long has passed, only that my muscles ache and it’s getting more and more difficult to breathe. My mind drifts back to those words I’d heard not so long ago: Try to stay through the entire session. And it occurs to me that I might not be able to.
With my left arm pointing forward and my right leg almost above my head, I’m now in battle with myself. I will myself to breathe slowly. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. I know it’s cheating to breathe through my mouth, but I can’t help it. I take a few big gulps of air through my mouth and force myself to breathe only through my nose again.
I continue following the instructor, and then I can no longer follow along. I lie down on the yoga mat, palms up. My sweat drips backward into my nose and I breathe too quickly. Like a swimmer breathing water through their nose, I am hit with that cold drowning sensation. I feel my heart rate go up...am I going to even make it through this session lying down?
My brain vaguely registers that two students walk out while the one to my left also lies down.
I try to get up on my right elbow, but I am slick with sweat and slip back onto the ground. I lie down again and continue focusing as hard as I can on breathing.
A few moments later, I feel my heartbeat slow down and my breathing start to steady. I take another gulp of water and force myself to rejoin the class. I will finish.
Awkwardly, I bend myself into the different positions, again, forcing myself to control my breathing, when I hear those magic words: “Last set of exercises.”
The last set fly by and the class ends. “Good work, newbies. Hope to see you again soon.”
I slowly gather my things and leave the room, where cool, normal, proper room temperature air awaits me. As I mop myself with my towel, I breathe in this air with new-found appreciation.
Something is different though: it’s quiet, but it’s a good quiet. It’s the quiet you get when you just accomplished something great - when you get into battle with yourself and you emerge victorious. I feel victorious. I survived Bikram Yoga!
Holding onto this feeling, I get changed and start making my way towards the door. The instructor sees me and pulls me aside. “Great job for sticking it through to the end.”
“Thanks,” I say. “It was hard, but I have a new found appreciation.”
“Great,” he replies enthusiastically. “See you again soon?”
I smile and nod politely. Maybe...definitely maybe.
