Step 1: Don't go.
Just kidding- do whatever you want. But let me tell you why I will not be joining you and the other middle-class yuppies who seem to be rushing to these hot yoga studios that are popping up like daisies.
Last week, I ventured to a hot yoga studio in Lincoln Park, Chicago for my first ever Bikram yoga class. I had found a deal online that allowed you to try out different studios and gyms all over the city for a ridiculously cheap price, so I figured 'what the hell- why not?'. I had my pick of yoga studios, dance studios, mixed martial arts, boot camps, and for last weeks session, I chose to indulge in this new hot yoga trend that I've been hearing so much about from all the other white girls (it was in the weekly newsletter, in case you missed it.) So after work, with my gym bag and yoga clothes in tow, I went to hot yoga.
You would think that I would've been able to take some kind of comfort in the fact that I've been irregularly practicing yoga for over 6 months now, but alas, I could not...
...because this.room.was. HOT. We're talking 7th-circle-of-Hell hot. Hawt. First of all, don't be an idiot like me and bring a hand-sized towel just to wipe the sweat off your brow, because you will look around and instantly realize that you are the only yogi without a full-size towel on top of your mat. Trust me-you'll feel like a newb. I mean, I knew I was gonna sweat, but a FULL SIZED BATH TOWEL?! Imagine my disgust when I looked over at my neighbor and realized that he had an entire puddle surrounding his mat/towel.Yeah, no.....that's gross. Where was all that sweat coming from?!
Unfortunately, I soon found out where from. My legs, my arms, my ass, the small of my back- I at one point even felt like my eyes were sweating (which is actually a very different feeling from crying.) It was everywhere. I chugged water at every chance I got, which wasn't too often, because no one wants to be that guy disturbing everyone's zen while he guzzles down his Aquafina. I couldn't even hold certain poses because my hand couldn't grasp any part of my body.
In addition to the sweat, which I imagine some people (i.e. not me) could get past, our instructor made Miss Trunchbull look like Miss Honey (yes I did just make a Matilda reference, because that Mara Wilson is adorable and so is Danny DeVito.) "Bring your hands UP towards the sky and reach with your chest and arch your back and stand on your tip-toes and tilt your chin up and KEEP THOSE ARMS UP TOWARDS THE HEAVENS AND DON'T YOU DARE THINK ABOUT BRINGING THEM DOWN OR ELSE THE YOGA GODS WILL SHUN YOU FOR ALL ETERNITY." I don't know if you've ever been barked at for 90 sweaty, smelly minutes by someone who is insanely more talented than you, but it is quite disheartening.
After it was over, I left scared, annoyed, and fuming, and not just from the temperature of the room. I was even further from zen than I had been before the class, and isn't that the whole point of yoga??
Follow whatever fitness trend you want; after all, everyone has to find something that works for them. But rest assured- I will not be caught dead in another hot yoga studio. I give it 0.2 stars and a "Absolutely Would Not Recommend Even to My Worst Enemy".
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