Hot Yoga = Hot Body

Okay, so I have yet to actually prove that hot yoga will result in a hot body, but I’m willing to experiment. Plus, if the bodies of the women in the class are any indication of hot yoga’s fitness benefits, then I’m going to be yoga-ing it up every day.

Anyway, today was my first exploration into the world of hot yoga. Seeing as how I start sweating from walking from my desk to my supervisor’s – just across the hall – I was slightly concerned that I would create a puddle around my mat. Nevertheless, I decided to give it a shot. I mean, you’re supposed to sweat. Surely no one can make a comment about it when they sweat, too. Right?

I was intensely annoyed as I stood around waiting for class to begin, perhaps because the waiting room is the size of my bathroom, or rather because the regular “yogi’s” chatted with each other all yoga doer-ish. They literally sounded like this: “oh haw haw haw, yes hot yoga blah blah blah, I know the instructor we are best friends, haw haw haw.” I think it’s a safe best to assume that it was a combination of the two.

I walked into the studio that is kept at a steamy 100 degrees Fahrenheit, and was promptly enveloped in the practice of meditation. I’ve never been good at meditation. I have the attention span of a small bug and I really don’t want to go that far into my mind. Sometimes its dark in there, and then I get scared.

Anyway, hot yoga practice equipment is comprised of the following – a yoga mat and a large towel to prevent soakage of the mat. A great idea, and one of which I was unaware until I entered the studio with my very orange yoga mat and a small hand towel to dab at the lady-like streams of sweat that were already starting their way into my eyes. First mistake #1 – never assume that I will not excrete 50% more sweat than the average person. I also discovered that I am not the quietest person in the world, having slapped my mat onto the floor, which resulted in a rather gunshot-like noise. Meditation over, everyone! No senses of humour, these people. No one even smiled encouragingly as I giggled and express my apologies quite sincerely and with astounding wit and intellect.

The class may have started off uncomfortably; however, it was clear, as I manoeuvred my body into a pretzel, that I am awesome at hot yoga. I could do every pose gracefully, balanced and with little to no exertion.

You weren’t there – I can say whatever I want.

With the amount of heavy breathing and sweating going on in that room, it honestly sounded like we were in a giant orgy. Perhaps not the thing to be thinking during the meditative practice of asana yoga (don’t look that term up – I am fairly confident that it has nothing to do with hot yoga and I’d rather not be called out on it) but I can’t help where my thoughts go. They have a mind of their own.

Ha ha. Get it?

As it turned out, hot yoga is actually really good. I sweated out of every pore, but felt cleansed, energized, and so healthy – that is, after I left early and had to sit down for a good 5 minutes before the overwhelming urge to faint passed.

I’m going back next week.

Love,

Bella