It’s not totally clear to me why I have had issues with Bikram Hot Yoga. Part of it is probably that it is kind of trendy. So of course I do not want to be trendy. Except if it think it is either a really fun trend or a trend on the wane. Along these lines I am thinking of wearing my yellow wrist band again. Maybe it is not a good sign for Bikram Hot Yoga that I finally made it to a class.
Edmund Spencer said something along the lines that there is a factor which is a sure block to progress: contempt prior to investigation. I have been investigating other forms of exercise that don’t aggravate my back. Walking, jogging, traditional yoga, and Pilates have all been on the list. Yoga and Pilates have a lot to recommend them. Walking and jogging not so much right now. So it only seemed right to give hot yoga a try.
It is hot, by the way. I have the sweat rate of a chocolate fountain. It’s pretty gross, and especially so in a 100 degree room. The other thing is that bending and stretching seems deceptively easy until you are trying to do it. It’s even harder when you aware greased up like a pig, and you have the belly of a pig from not really exercising in two months while continuing to eat as if you are. I was not the most elegant guy in the room as the shorts stretched tight across my hips (the ones I used to refer to as my “fat shorts”) became saturated with perspiration.
But what does that matter when you are having a really good time? My back felt great by the end of the 90 minutes. Still does a day later. The workout left me emptied out in much the same way that a good run does. After class was done, I slowly got up and eased out of the room. The door to the parking lot was steamed up from our sweaty bodies. After I changed and walked outside, I was hit by the greatest hunger I have felt in a while. Knowing there was some pita in my car, I recreated a scene from “Trainspotting” in my search for the bread. The golden carbs, washed down with cool water, were the best I have tasted in months.