Happy Saturday lovers! Today I would like to share with you my yoga experience this past Thursday. Actually, I would like to start from the beginning, which was about a year and a half ago. I had heard about Bikram Yoga through a cousin who raved about it. At first, I was hesitate, fighting with the little voice inside my head, “Yoga Cindy? You’re not a yoga person, you run, play soccer, occasionally lift, yoga is for eternally happy and blissful people, people that live in a world of sunshine and rainbows, and that’s not you”.
I was also concerned about my zero experience level. How can I just jump into a class if I know nothing about poses? I can barely touch my toes without my knees quivering; don’t you need to be somewhat flexible? And from what I heard, Bikram Yoga is pretty intense. 90 minutes doing poses in a 100°+ room; the prospect seems daunting. I decided that it couldn’t be that bad, I mean, I made it through 4 years of preseason with soccer in college, 3 a days that made me drop 20lbs in 2 weeks and speed & agility tests that made teammates puke; it’s only yoga…right?
I arrived for my first class wearing a t-shirt and shorts. Little did I know then how absolutely overdressed I was. The fee is $20 per class if you are not a member, but since the closest Bikram studio is in Brooklyn, that equates to a pretty expensive workout for a Staten Islander. I had prepared by drinking lots of water, as was advised, and eating a light meal a few hours beforehand. The lobby of the studio smelled like the ball pit at McDonald’s; everyone was walking around barefoot and half naked. Yikes! As soon as we entered the yoga room, or, as I would more aptly call it the sauna, the experienced yogis took their spots closest to the mirror. I tried to sink into the back wall as much as humanly possible.
There were people there from all walks of life, older adults, heavyset individuals, a painfully pregnant woman, petite yoga junkies and my ex-athlete self. What’s great about this form of yoga is that all levels are in one class. The idea is to push yourself harder every time you go, a concept I love. Seeing this eccentric crowd made me more relaxed, because if this 60 year old, heavy woman next to me can do it then so can I.
What ensued was probably one of the most pain experiences excercise-wise in my life. I couldn’t adjust to the temperature and I couldn’t keep my heart rate steady. My balance was terribly off. I felt fat and hated looking at myself in the mirrored wall. Water would not satiate my extreme thirst or fatigue and I began to panic. I was screaming in my head as the yoga instructor belted out instructions in her way too happy sing song voice. IS 90 MINUTES OVER YET?! I was pouring sweat. I say pouring and not dripping because I have never been so soaked in my life. It looked as if I had just gotten out of a pool. The yogies I originally scoffed at for being so scantily clad I was now immediately jealous of. I just wanted to strip down, crawl into a ball in the corner of the room and cry. When the class ended I had an instantaneous headache from being dehydrated. I resolved to never go again.
A week went by. A little voice somewhere inside started to whisper:
Maybe you should go again.
Uh-uh, no way, that was terrible, probably not even healthy for you.
The whisper grew louder.
You’re chickening out of doing yoga Cindy, that’s sad, you’ve lost!
UGHHH.
I am an insanely competitive person, and I could not stand the idea of being beaten. Really, it wasn’t the physical breakdown I was worried about; this yoga mentally tore me to shreds. For a woman I think it's even harder, because your staring at yourself in this mirror with all of these flaws that seem to be screaming out at you and all you can think of is the extra chub on your leg, let alone trying to do a damn tree pose. It doesn't even resemble a damn tree.
Well if I am going to voluntarily suffer again I am totally making someone suffer with me. I chose my boyfriend Frank. “Yoga Cindy? Please, I got an A in my yoga class while I was in college, this won’t be a problem”. Needless to say, Frank’s first time doing Bikram yoga was his last. Afterwards in the locker room our male yoga instructor stood naked in front of Frank asking how he liked the class; that also solidified his intent to never go back again. When we got home Frank laid on the floor in his shower puking from being dehydrated. I had to feed him Gatorade through a straw from the other side of the shower curtain as his mother fretted around me saying “WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY BABY?!”. I never laughed so hard in my life.
Flash forward a year and a half. I went to class on Thursday evening with a friend. The one thing I need to work on is to lose my overwhelming feeling of self-consciousness. It didn’t help that the girlfriend I went with has Barbie-like proportions. Damnit this tank makes me look fat! Sitting in the waiting room before hell began, I noticed some of the other yogis around me. One woman had a faint vertical scar down her back. It is the scar an individual is left with after having corrective surgery for scoliosis. Another young man had folds of loose skin around his belly and arms, something common in people after having Bariatric Surgery. I realized then how many personal issues people deal with, health-wise, and here they were half naked for all the world to see contorting their bodies into awkward, unflattering poses. My body dsymorphic issues are probably just as bad as everyone else’s. People at Bikram Yoga aren’t there to judge. It’s about attaining the best you, feeling good about yourself and pushing your body to its absolute limit. Never mind the Barbie sitting next to me, my little tummy is a whole lot less of an issue considering what some of these other people appear to have went through.
The first class will be the worst. After that it gets better. I encourage everyone to try this type of yoga, not for the first time, but for the second. You will be amazed at how much easier it is. My goal is to become more comfortable with myself, because we all reach that point at times when we are just so fed up with what God gave us. Flexibility may not be my forte, but overcoming my worst enemy, myself, makes it all worth it. Even if it takes me $20 bucks and a ridiculous toll charge everyday, I will learn how to do a flawless Full Locust pose, and feel comfortable in my own skin doing it.
Full Locust-
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