Now, I am not new to yoga. I took my first class more than ten years ago and have dabbled in it since then. But this is different.
Most yoga studios I have been to have a very peaceful, spa-like vibe to them. There's a great new yoga studio right in town with the most beautiful setting, I just want to move in. There are lit candles lining the edges of the clean, wood floors in the dim studios, hot tea for anyone who wants it, a spacious lobby with a snack bar and lovely things for sale, and beautiful teachers who put you into a trance and make you feel like yoga is a religious experience.
But, that's not where I've been going to yoga. I found the other studio. It is on the other side of town in a strip mall near the airport. The staff is gossipy and sort of mean, and they have a chip on their shoulder about that new, hip yoga studio. The teachers sometimes tell inappropriate stories or lecture you about taking care of your feet while you lay captive in vinyasa. Worst of all, the studio is carpeted. YES, carpeted. Every time I go there I tell myself that working out barefoot on sweaty, soggy carpet is a deal breaker. Yet, I keep going back. I am hooked.
I am hooked because it is an incredible workout. The room is hot, more than 105 degrees, and the teacher leads us through a series of 26 poses. They are challenging positions that stretch and push us beyond where we think we can go. We sweat more than we ever have sweat, it drips onto the towels over our mats. Our hearts thump in our chests between poses so hard we think our neighbors might be able to hear it. Our neighbors sit out poses, and it is normal to feel dizzy. And we love it. We come back for more. Every class I can see improvement. I can do things I wasn't able to do a few classes ago. I leave class feeling rejuvenated and healthy. I can see changes in my body, and I envision this practice melting my body into a svelt physique just in time for summer.
It is such a good workout that I am getting over the carpet. It turns out that it is special outdoor carpet meant for such purposes, and is sanitized between each class. I am getting over the fact that this is not a nurturing yoga environment. The instructors are not going to walk me through a zen-like candle-lit class, they are more like drill instructors than motherly Buddhists. But I still walk out of class free of tension and with a clear head.
I do sometimes wonder if it is really all that healthy. Sometimes people leaving the studio have a fatigued, might-pass-out-at-any-moment look. Driving home from class I feel exhilirated, yet my decision-making seems slowed to the point that I wonder if I should be operating the heavy machinery that my Chevy clearly is. You burn an incredible amount of calories doing Bikram, I've read both 900 to 2000 calories per 90 minute session. That is appealing and kind of scary at the same time.
So I don't think that I'll do this forever, but I am enjoying it as a way to get back in shape over the long winter months. And I'm not the only one who is addicted to this weird drug of mine. The studio is full most classes of Bikram junkies. Yesterday as I walked into the studio, there was a crowd of soaked, half-naked people sitting on benches in the icy January air, with a cloud of steam coming off their bodies. It looked like they were out there smoking, in front of this strip mall on a Thursday night. The glass to the studio is tinted dark so you can't see inside, like a night club. No one was smiling, the mood was intense, serious. All of us there to get our Bikram yoga fix. It made me realize that there are a lot of ways we could be trying to get through this long winter, and that Bikram might not be so weird after all.
