I bought a Groupon for a local Bikram Studio back in May ($15 for 5 classes). For those of you who don’t know what Bikram Yoga (aka Hot Yoga) is, it’s 90 minutes of yoga in a hot room usually around 105°F. I’ve never tried it before but plenty of people sing the praises of its benefits and at that price why not try it.
As a person with a constant bevy of injuries I could truly benefit from this but admittedly I’ve been taking my time cashing in this Groupon. As people who take Body Flow with me know three things about me. 1) I am balanced challenged. 2) I’m half and half on my flexibility. 3) I can’t keep my mouth shut for 50 minutes let alone 90. Long story short, up until this point I’ve been afraid to walk into this Bikram studio bringing my Laverne & Shirley style yoga into their midst. Those people will end up hating me. I find some yoga people to be a bit uptight on a good day and I don’t want to get kicked out. Plus, and a minor plus, everyone says you need to wear shorts and I hate shorts. Nothing screams, “HEY, I HAVE THIGHS!!!,” like a pair of shorts.
But this week I got a strange sense of confidence and decided it was time to try Bikram Yoga. Yesterday, I went online and registered my information, signed up for a class and filled in and printed out my waiver. This morning, I got up early so I had time to be hungry since they say to eat 2 to 3 hours beforehand, and had a healthy breakfast of oatmeal with fresh peach. I even went as far as to make dinner (a lovely Asian noodle salad with zucchini and mint) just in case I would be too tired to cook, as well as did the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. Next, I carefully packed my bag so I could grab everything with ease as I needed it and even stopped by the store on the way there to get a Gatorade for after class. I joyfully walked up the three flights of stairs only to find the door locked. I was surprised because I was definitely 20 minutes early like they asked so I tried to open the door again. Stumped I stood in a hot stairwell trying to figure out what was wrong. So, I looked at my phone and it read, “11:43 am.” Yup, 20 minutes early alright. And then I had one of those head smacking, Homer Simpson “Doh” moments: Class started at 11 am. I couldn’t have felt any stupider or flightier at that moment. I was too busy over thinking everything else to consider the one damn thing that actually mattered, the time.