Hot Yoga

It never occurred to me that my kneecaps could produce rivets of sweat, no matter how rigorously I may exercise. Same goes for my forearms, shins, earlobes and the backs of my heels.

But hot yoga -- in a studio heated anywhere from 95 to 105 degrees -- will do that to you.

I've been spending two solid hours the last few Saturday afternoons sweating my skin off at Hot Yoga Saratoga. It's the class for triathletes (though I am not, technically, a triathlete) that I mentioned in the last post ...



... Yes, that last post went up when the calendar was showing a different page. My apologies. What can I say? Radically adjusting my hours of operation so that I am 1.) familiar with what my kitchen looks like at 7 a.m. (!) and 2.) now aware that there are actually children who wait for the school bus outside my house each morning (!!) was sort of a rough adjustment. (Recounting the highlights of this comic tragedy could fill up an entire blog post.) Anyway, the adjustment was necessary to ensure I showed up at my new job, which I am commuting to, in Albany, by 9 a.m. each morning. It has also left me little energy to spare for extra things like blogging. So it's had to wait until now, when my brain and everything else have transitioned, seemingly intact, to this new schedule. I am eager to share new developments on the running, injury-abatement and racing fronts. But first, hot yoga ...

If you are unfamiliar with hot yoga and are considering taking a class, my first suggestion is this: Prepare to get nearly naked and super sweaty with a bunch of other nearly naked, super sweaty people in a hot, dim room for a couple of hours. Get ready to feel muscle and mind sensations you have never experienced. Don't stop breathing.

Accept the possibility that the instructor may drip sweat onto you while he or she is bending over you helping you into a a pose. It's not gross. It's great!

Other than that, all you really need to know is this: Two water bottles, two towels. Drink before, during and after class. Get a bath towel or special yoga towel to put over your mat and a smaller towel to mop up your face.

When you leave, you'll feel like you're best friends with everyone in the class, even if you might not have even exchanged words with anyone other than the instructor ("No really, it's fine that you sweated all over me.") What really adds to the bonding experience is if somebody on a nearby mat lets out a mysterious, involuntary noise from a region below their chin.

On a more serious note: Hot yoga, or any yoga for that matter, is all the better if you get to share in the inexplicable joy of a lovely friend who's discovering it for the first time. Watching from the next mat over as they melt from stiff and nervous to bendy and blissful in the span of a two-hour class is basically the coolest thing I've experienced so far this year. Later, if you are lucky, they might tell you, "I'll be back for more."