Yogi, Day One

Today i went to my very first yoga class. Yay!! A yoga virgin no more!

I knew practically nothing about yoga except that you got into these challenging-looking poses... But i did know i wanted to stretch. The Bikram studio came highly recommended by my friend NS who explained that Bikram yoga (as opposed to other branches, none of which i can name) is different in that it is practiced in very high temperature. I was hesitant and apprehensive; i tend to sweat more profusely than your "normal" girl and i don't particularly enjoy dripping. NS assured me the heat was supposed to relax your muscles so you're less prone to injuries, and help your body rid itself of toxins. I wasn't sure i bought into the concept of sweating away toxins. And i thought even if i could sweat away toxins, i'd just ingest more at the end of the day anyway.

So... i had to get up early cos i'd rather get this out of the way than wait till late afternoon... and so i was hung over and cranky. When i got there I was a little wary of the New Agey vibe. But it sure was exciting to try something new. And now that i've had time to ponder, why is New Age associated with flakiness? i just don't get it.

Simple advice like "remember to breathe" really came in handy. We all take simple things for granted at one time or another, don't we? The class was actually quite fun and engaging, and the 90 minutes flew by. Well, the first 75 minutes flew by, but by the 76th minute i just wanted to lie there on my towel-draped mat and do nothing. Cos after baking at 475° for over an hour, i was done. Not until i walked out of the studio did i realize just how soaked i was. I don't think i ever perspired that much in my life! Now i know what they mean by "sweating buckets".

As i drove home i decided.. you know what? It does feel good to sweat. I was reminded of when i was much younger, when i didn't wear sunblock or lipstick or anything - just my naked face... back then i couldn't care less if sweat streamed down all over my face and dripped off my wisps of short hair and my shirt stuck to my back.

For a moment there on my way home, as my wet tee stuck to my chest and tummy, i was blissed out. I actually went 62 on 65. That's out of character.