This morning Becki and I went to a Bikram yoga class at Om on the Range. (On, how punny!) Since it was our first time there we had a short orientation before the class started. The instructor, Beth, told us that we shouldn't worry about keeping up with the poses. Our main goal was to stay in the room for the full 90 minutes. If that meant laying down and taking breaks, then so be it. Really? All we have to do is stay in the room? I'm no Olympian, but I've done some Hatha yoga, I've run a few marathons and think I'm in okay shape- I think I can sit in a hot room for 90 minutes. Armed with our yoga mats, towels and bottles of water, Becki and I headed into the studio.
It was really freaking hot.
105 degrees to be exact. We followed the lead of the regulars and laid down on our mats. I could barely breath- I had no idea how I'd stay in that room for 90 minutes. I took deep breaths. I tried to calm my mind but all it was saying was, "GET THE HELL OUT OF THIS RIDICULOUSLY HOT ROOM! THIS is how you choose to spend your free time and $15?! WOMAN, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" Sweat dripped off the side of my face on to my mat before Beth even entered the room.
Class began with a LOT of deep breaths which helped my fight or flight tendency immensely. Bikram is a series of 26 poses done twice each. I had done most, if not all, of the poses before in normal temperatures and not had all that much trouble. However, the heat made them all much harder. There were a few times when I chose to skip a pose, lay down and enjoy the feeling of laying in a pool of my own sweat. I seriously have never sweat or seen other people sweat that much. By the end of the class, my towel felt like I'd dropped it in a pool.
Becki and I shared more than a few "We are completely insane" looks, and occasionally threw in a "I'm pretty sure I'm gonna pass out and die" stare. But we did it. We both survived 90 minutes in that room with no breaks. After class was over, we overheard a few regulars complaning about how the room was particularly hot today. The instructor agreed. This made me happy. We survived under the most difficult of Bikram circumstances.
Did I mention that I can't wait to go back?
I have the most satisfying muscle pain right now. My skin feels great- it felt like I sweat out 90 percent of my body's toxins in just one class. And I know I will sleep like a rock tonight. I really liked the mind over matter aspect of it. I had no choice but to focus on breathing and forget everything else that is going on in my life. The calm Zen part of me wound up winning the battle with the whiney bitch in me that just wanted to leave. Plus, I'm hoping it'll be a bit easier to adjust to the temperature from here on out.
It's probably the same reason I (sort of) like running marathons but I'm not that much of a fan of running. There's something really cool about getting to that point where my body is moving forward and getting in a zone where I ignore the very rational part of me that says, "For the love of god, just sit down and take a nap." There's no room to stress about daily life BS because all I'm thinking is "move legs forward, breath, wow...my calf hurts, oh look, the lake looks pretty...ow, I think my eyeballs even hurt....ooh cool, another mile marker..." Speaking of, I'm thrilled that I'm not running the Chicago Marathon tomorrow. It's supposed to be in the high 80s. That is just ridiculous. But I'll be there cheering on friends and strangers. One of my happiest moments ever was during the 2002 New York City marathon, which the first of the three that I've done. I had taken the recommendation of friends and put my name on my shirt. Word was that hearing strangers call my name would be motivating. I was at about mile 21 and my legs were tighter than I'd ever felt. I stopped a couple times to stretch but it seemed like it was beyond repair. I just needed to run another 5 miles in excruciating pain. I turned a corner in the Bronx, and an old man sitting on his stoop yelled at me, "Hey Mary...if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere!" I smiled widely, thanked him and then took off like a gazelle. Ok, not really. But in my mind I was flying. I will never in my life forget that guy. He has no idea what a positive impact his funny little cheer had on me. Just thinking about crossing the finish line makes me get emotional. It's that guy, my family and friends that came, and thousands of other strangers cheering me on that helped get me there. Right now there are thousands of people pinning their numbers on their shirts, counting out their goo packets and getting ready to get minimal sleep because of excitement and fear of what tomorrow will bring. I can't wait to be there to cheer them on.
But for now, I'm gonna go meet a couple friends at a bar down the block.
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