My introduction to hot yoga

When I hurt my back in 2004, I went to a rehab facility at a gym.  I did this in addition to physical therapy.  I was with a group of people who were about the same age as my grandparents, most of them in there for stroke rehab.  We started out slowly doing water therapy, then transitioned into some light yoga and pilates stretches and light weights on the machines.  A few months after I had been released back to normal activities, I went with my sister to a yoga class at the gym.  The class started out slow, and I was catching on from my experience with the rehab classes.  Then the teacher instructed everyone to do the "extended hand to big toe" pose.

I tried.  

I failed.  

I fell over.  

I took my sister out with me.  

I disrupted the entire class.  

I was mortified.  

After the class, the teacher walked over to me and very rudely said that she didn't think that yoga was a good fit for me, and I should find something better suited for me.  In other words, don't come back to my class, you suck.

So that was my last yoga experience...until Sunday.  My birthday.  Lo texted me and said that she was going to yoga, and did I want to go with her?  It's "mellow flow", not as hot, it's the easiest class, and the teacher "is such a love."

"Not as hot?  How hot is that?" 

(A few years ago, we went to a beer fest on the Sacramento River and it was 110* outside.  I got dehydrated even though I didn't even drink any beer and overheated and haven't been able to tolerate the heat since.  I hate being hot.)

"Only around 85-87"

(That's way better than than the 105 Bikram yoga you always hear about)

"That's not too bad.  What do I need to wear and bring?"

WHO JUST TEXTED LO THAT MESSAGE FOR ME????

"YAY!!!"

So I met Lo at the yoga studio at 10am on a Sunday, on my birthday.  Instead of sleeping in and eating birthday bacon. 

Who does that?  Aren't birthdays for sleeping, hangovers, eating out, and just being lazy?

We set up our mats.  The room was warm, but not overwhelming.  The lights were off.  There was a statue in the center surrounded by candles and flowers.  The teacher comes up and talks to Lo and gives her a hug.  Lo introduces me to Krista, and she gives me a hug, like we've been friends for a hundred years. I'm not a hugger, but this was a welcoming, inviting hug.  It made me feel like I was with family.    

The class starts and Krista starts talking, guiding us through the journey she will be taking us on this morning.  Her voice is soothing.  Her words are calm.  Relaxing.  Encouraging.  "It's ok if you can't do the pose."  "Don't worry about when you fall over." "Don't forget to breathe."

WHEN YOU FALL OVER.  I liked this lady already.

The class started out simply.  I've taken a few Pilates mat classes over the past few months, so I was a little bit more limber than at my last yoga class.  I was able to do many of the poses.  Some I did a modified version, some I made up my own thing that in no way shape or form resembled what was going on in the studio at that time. I was constantly moving.  Trying.  Effort. I fell over.  No one scolded me or shot me a death glare  I got up and kept on going.  

I started sweating a bit, but made sure I took a break to get some water in me.  No way was I going to get overheated.  I would not pass out.  911 would not be called out.  I would not spend my birthday in the ER getting treated for heat exhaustion from hot yoga. My hubby would never let me live that down. 

Then I started to get warm.  I wiped my forehead.  I was drenched.  I was sweating buckets.  Places on my body were sweating that I had no idea you could sweat from. Did I pee myself or was this all sweat?

This has to be what Texas feels like in July.

The poses kept getting harder, but I hung in there.  I kept drinking water and modifying poses that were too advanced for me.

Restorative poses.  My favorite.  A reward for all your hard work before you head back to the real world. A time to reflect on how far you challenged yourself, and how far you have come.

When I started the class, I stood with my feet slightly wider than shoulder width apart.  I could barely touch my knees with my fingertips.  By the end of the class, I could almost put my palms flat on the floor.

"You did so good." A goodbye hug.  A picture to prove I survived. 

Will I go back ?  

Yes.  

Will I try hotter yoga?  

Maybe. 

                                                                                                            

Mel, Lo, & Sunday Flow

Hot yoga.
It is a passion of mine.

I'm a young "yogi", still practicing & not quite as much of a regular as I'd like to be, but still, I loved hot yoga from the get-go and it's become my thing.
I got to yoga class not only for my body, but for my mind, and my heart.
Some of my friends think I'm crazy for bending & twisting in a hot and moderately humid room for
90-minutes at a time, sweating like a cold glass on a hot Summer day.
Despite that, I've gotten about a dozen of them to at least try a class with me.
I've had a few of them get just as hooked, and a few others try and kill me mid-class with hateful death glances under sweat drenched eyelashes.

Mel has avoided my invite to hot yoga for some time now, but this Sunday, on a whim, I asked her and she agreed to go. Can't lie, I was a little shocked that she agreed.
Her reaction in the past when I've asked her is "no way, no how, I'm just not ready for that."
Fair enough. However in the last few months, she's lost about 30 lbs with her strict diet and she had been practicing mat Pilates. I made it to a few classes with her and knew that she could probably hang in the heat of the Sunday "Mellow Flow" class.

One of my favorite teachers, Krista, teaches this class.
It's the "coolest" of the classes, with the temperature sitting at just about 87* & it's one of the grooviest of the classes, 'cause well Krista is a perfect combination of Goldie Hawn and Ethel Mertz.
Krista is hugs, smiles, and words of humor that bring ease and levity to practice.
Sunday morning class is about soft candlelight, community, and calm.
It's Sunday Morning Mellow Flow.


Each yoga class always comes with a mantra for the practice.
Sunday's mantra was a list:
1: Love - immense love
2: Moderation
3: Humility
Krista added the 4th: Happy
The instruction was to have all these things for ourselves and for our practice during our 90 minute class.

As we sat down, both of us sore and stiff from the long week, me hurting from walking/running a 5K the night before and having not slept in 3 days, I could barely lie in shavasana (corpse pose) without wincing.
I couldn't even lie like a dead body without hurting!!!

Mel leaned over and whispered to me that the last time she tried yoga, she got kicked out for falling over.
I just looked at her like, "mmmmm-kay, oh please..."
I said "No one in this room will even blink twice if you fall over."

Krista reinforced it right at the beginning of class, she said:
be happy
smile
don't be afraid to fall
(go ahead, read into it, don't be afraid to fall, physically, emotionally, just go with it!)

Upon hearing that I looked over with a glance that said: "Psssssst, Mel, don't be afraid to fall!"
Shortly after that, Mel did. 
She fell. 
It was a short fall and as she looked over at me with her eyes enlarged like she had just committed a crime, I just smiled back like "atta girl, can't fall if you don't even try in the first place."

So we got into class, up dog, down dog, cobra, pigeon, lizard, child's pose...
We did something that doesn't have a name - it was: bend over, grab the backs of your ankles or your shins, let your head hang down heavy,  and walk in a circle. 
Yeah, picture twenty spandex clad, sweaty women laughing their asses off doing that. 
Go ahead, pause reading this post for a second and do it yourself.  I dare you!

There was also some kind of other twist, I don't know the name of it - it was a sideways bend with one arm snaked through your leg, the other arm looped over your back, grabbing for your hands to connect and hold on, & then finally turning your head up and look at the ceiling.
I did it the best I could, not quite with my hands touching, but close enough and I looked up at the ceiling.
It only took about three seconds before sweat rolled into my nostril and it was like when you suck water into your nose at the pool and you think you're gonna drown. 
I thought I was gonna drown.

THERE IS NO DROWING IN HOT YOGA!!

Mel - she kept up with all of it, modified what she didn't know or couldn't get right away, but she kept up thoroughout, with the young yogis the old yogis, she did soo good for all 90 minutes without stopping! 

As we laid in our last shavasana, Krista's voice floated over the soft music playing, reminding us to:
watch your breath
soften your thoughts
know that you're safe, "Mother Earth" is holding you
(I interpretted my own spiritual meaning).

Our final moments on the mat, we sat silently, legs crossed, hands to heart center, heads bowed:
bowed to ourselves, our practice, to dedicating our time spent to someone close to us:
I thought of all the people close to me and I prayed.
I prayed like I was an auctioneer. Just as fast as I could think of a name, I said a short prayer.

For: safety, comfort, peace, wisdom, courage, understanding, forgiveness, healing, I prayed for it all...

At the end of class, after the music was of and we were moving around, I looked at Mel, looking to see if she was going to need an IV or maybe a foam bat to hit me with but she needed neither.
She looked a little bit surprised that she made it through class, saying she had never sweat so much in her life but she liked it and even though she fell, she made it through the class like a champ. 

Krista agreed.  There were hugs.  Sweaty hugs.

Mel kickin' some beginners hot yoga butt, made me think of one of my favorite sayings:

Don't be afraid to step out to the edge and take a leap.

Don't be afraid to fall.

pssttt....don't be afraid to go to hot yoga with me!!!

Namaste, my friends.

~ Lo