Bikram Yoga is for Sadists

Feeling like my life lacked pain, I decided to join my other sadist friend Khadija this weekend to experience what all the fuss was about Bikram Yoga. I knew that Bikram was practiced in a hot room. What I didn't know, was just how hot it was going to be.

When we arrived at the studio and announced that we were the new kids, we were told our goal for the class was just to stay in it. We made our way into the room to find a spot on the floor. Like an idiot, I came prepared with yoga pants. That's the last time I purchase an item that tells you what its use is in the title. I was better off wearing a snow suit. People began to fill up the room dressed in Speedos and sheer tops, short shorts and head bands. Already they were warming up by striking artful poses in the mirror. Khadija and I traded looks as we merely laid there on the mat, consuming water.

The room smelled like the basement of a youth group that had been flooded and they kept the old moldy carpet. Why they have carpet in a room where people constantly sweat on, I don't know. This would only add to my olfactory senses later on while laying defeated with my face in the floor. Throughout the 90 minute session, the poses proved to be not that difficult. The difficulty for me was trying to do anything without passing out. Anytime we began a pose with our heads down and followed it by standing up, I found myself back on the floor huffing and puffing. I liked to think of these moments of silent defeat more as quiet meditation.

You're asked to watch yourself in the mirror, which I tried very hard not to do. Every time I caught a glimpse of myself, I was met with a red faced girl who looked like she was forced to jump into a volcano and saying her last goodbyes. I began to watch other people gaze at themselves in the mirror instead. They could contort their rubber band bodies into these snake-like positions without so much as a second thought. If you listened long enough, you could hear this consistency of sweat falling from people's bodies.

I was caught several times cheating on certain moves by the teacher who simply nodded in understanding. I'm pretty sure he could hear the rhythm of my heart just before it exploded, so he knew. We paused for a water break as the teacher let us know we could sign up for the next 30 Day Challenge. That's 30 consecutive days of these 90 minute sessions. A woman a few mats away from us apparently just completed hers and said that she'd never felt better. I began to wish I had a bigger urge to cleanse my body of impurities, but all I could think about was the pizza I was going to order when I got home.

Every now and then, a fan would be turned on for a minute or two and I found find myself thanking God. It never lasted long until we were asked to do something like try and stand on our heads. But it really made me thankful that there is such a marvel of technology out there. The next time I attempt this class, I should really work on my silence. Each time the teacher would ask us to put a leg above our heads or touch our toes, I'd find myself laughing and thinking, "That's a good one, Teach!"

We met our goal for the class. We stayed in it. And surprisingly, I'm feeling pretty good today. So what if I fell asleep at 10:30 last night. So what if I had to drink two gallons of water to rehydrate myself. I'm fairly certain that corn dog I ate back in '96 was washed clean from my soul. The only thing that could make Bikram Yoga slightly more unpleasant would be to have us wear clown suits and watch Schindlers List on repeat. In Hell.

Namaste.