I tried it at last. After hearing all the buzz about 'hot yoga', and after several non-embracing tries at regular yoga, I thought the 'hot' version just might do the trick. Adding in the sauna factor which I love, would create the sweating factor which is what my brain connects with working out, I would finally see what everyone is so jazzed up about. So I picked today because it was supposed to be rainy so I thought it would be a good alternative to running or the gym. I went to 'THEEE place' that is supposed to be all the rage for bikram yoga which was a solid 20 minute drive from home and when I pulled up to the fabulous white office building on what turned out to be a GORGEOUS sunny day, I thought "ok, this might be nice" since the building had lots of windows and looked pretty cheerful. I soon realized the entrance was 'around back' and the studio was in the basement of the building. That should have been the first sign for me to head back into the sun and get my butt outta there and onto my bike, but no, when I decide to do something, I have conviction. So down to the dungeon I went, leaving the sunshine behind and walking into the windowless land of zen. The 'aroma' should have been the next clue. There is no describing it, but if you were to blend together the smell of burning incense with the smell of sweaty gym socks, you might get close and still I kept on going. I felt less-than-welcome by the anorexic girl who arrived before me wearing tiny little shorts and a sports bra, and the 'hostess' greeted me with a mellow welcome. The 'locker room' was about 5' X 5' and this included the 3 showers with yukky looking shower curtains - so my next thought was "I'm glad I brought the extra towel to sit my sweaty ass on for the car ride home", because there was NO WAY I was taking a shower at that place. When I entered the dark studio, the smell got worse than ever due to the heat and it occurred to me that I might vomit (that would not help the smell in there), but I thought I would keep the focus and get through it because there must be "something special" about this whole thing. I will cut to the chase. I was not meant to fold myself in half, or twist myself into positions I cannot pronounce. When I was a small and flexible little girl, I could not touch my toes, so I'm pretty sure there is no way I'm getting close to them half a century later no matter how many classes I take. I know that the point was to focus on the breathing and the poses and to be in the moment, but it was so terrible that I could not keep my mind on it for more than 5 seconds at a time and I stuck with it for 90 minutes! The fact that there was no clock in the room was like further torture because I had no grasp on when it would end. oh dear. I am not going to say that yoga is not great for those who love it, and it certainly is not an easy workout, so I give you all credit for being strong, limber and incredible - it was truly impressive to watch the expert yogis in that room. But for me, complete and intense focus comes when I'm moving in a different way - running or biking or doing any class or boot camp. That is when I am solidly on the task at hand, loving it and yes, loving the pain of it. But I will never love the pain of yoga and as much as I read about it and try to embrace it, I have to face the simple fact that at this point in my life, it's a no-go for yoga.
