Absolutely Hot Yoga

In search of my personal yoga perfection I booked myself a ten day pass at my local hot yoga studio. Such a leap of faith was it that I needed to holiday for a week in the hope of recovering from the stress of commitment to heat, sweat, pain and possible panic.

The holiday was super as you know. In Lanzarote I ‘endured’ heat, sweat, only the pain of one too many and no panic what so ever. But then I had to come home and be a yogi amongst titan yogis. Oh the terror. Ah, the lack of sleep. Hmmm, the self recrimination and the contemplation of pulling out and thus letting myself down.

I bought fast drying, tight fitting, all purpose leggings and a sports bra. I dug out a baggy cotton vest and a huge drink bottle. I promptly bottled out of the first class – a foundation level introduction – and so found myself in an ‘Absolute 50′, hour and a half session where my rapid changes of position bore no relation to the other yogis’ in the studio and my dizzy spells went virtually unnoticed because of all the contortionist movement going on around me. #smallmercies

“If this is your first hot yoga,” L……. said to me, “You might be happier at the back.”

Oh so much happier but there was no space for me at the back or I’d have been there boots and all.

My teacher moved an expert to the mirrored front and I settled into my natural habitat at the very tail end of yet another class. #storyofmylife

My brow was beaded with sweat and my breathing laboured. I felt ever so slightly feverish. It was very hot in there.

Then the class began.

“You can’t drink yet.” L…… had spotted me, bending for my bottle, all the way at the rear. “Move away from that jeroboam of water. We haven’t finished the warm up yet.”

Five minutes into the 90 and with 49 asanas to go and I was feeling humid, flushed and more than a little discombobulated. It got worse. Much worse. I was too hot to get the giggles. It wasn’t very funny anyway. I had a wee sit down and felt better. Briefly. Who knew so many of my body parts don’t work properly? Even in, joint relaxing, 40 degree heat.

My bathroom towel kept slipping on the yoga mat, bunching and fighting me with vicious abandon. Straightening it gave me regular breaks. And by now we were allowed to sip our fluids. To compensate the positions got harder. I was sort of managing the first stage of complex, body breaking contortions. And then having a little rest. I was dripping with sweat. L……. helped me into a couple of impossible holds. I realised body lotion makes the limbs very slippy to hold on to. At least I smelt nice. Well I hope I did.

I managed to complete the class. #yougogirl

I booked an ‘easier’ one for the Wednesday. I went. Then I booked an easier, easier one for Saturday.

I have persevered as an adjunct to my not hot yoga classes.

I am looking forward to my turn at this.

you are one crazy dude (www.telegraph.co.uk)

And in anticipation I have bought a non-slip towel and a smaller water bottle. I no longer apply lotion to my limbs before class. My hips are flexing wider and my waist seems to be shrinking.

It’s a journey – apparently.

Namaste.