Hot Yoga

A Yoga studio recently opened in my neighborhood and gives a free week to all new guests.   I was intrigued.  Called CorePower Yoga, this studio advertises hot yoga classes, and presumably does some kind of core work.  The "power" aspect could be anything.

On Sunday, before attending my local farmers market, I walked in for my first free class.  I went for the unheated beginner level since Yoga gurus come off as pretentious elitists and I didn't want to embarrass myself with the intermediate students.

The building is very nice, as was the woman at the counter.  She told me I could borrow a mat and a towel for free on my first day--on my second day, I would be charged $2.  I borrowed the mat, but told her I had my own towel.  Their towels looked kind of big anyway, and I only need something to wipe my face, not dry off after a shower.

"The locker room is upstairs," she told me. 

"Oh, I don't have a lock with me, can I bring my bag into the class?"

"We lock the door to the locker room during class.  You're things will be safe."

"Okay," I said, and sure enough, in the locker room (on which I didn't actually see a door), was a sign telling users that "People who practice yoga don't steal!"  Whether or not the room had a door, or a locked door, I had no doubt that the sign would ward off any potential thieves so I left my cell phone and wallet under the careful watch of the sign, and headed downstairs.

The class was in a huge studio and was about a third to a quarter full.  Most of the women did not look like your typical svelte, lulu-lemon-adorned yogi, so I felt comfortable, and the class level was not overly difficult.  I thought I could probably try the next level up, so on Monday after work I went to "CorePower Yoga 2 - Heated Power Yoga."

Again, I brought my sweat towel, a raggy hand-towel that I need to replace, but still didn't have a mat.  I checked out the ones they sell in the store, but quickly decided that I would borrow one today and buy my own mat at Target for less than the $74 price they offered.  Pretending I didn't see the $2 Mat Rental sign, I took one out of its cubby and scurried upstairs to the locker room.  There wasn't a "no stealing" sign downstairs, so I'm sure Karma will not get me for that.

I walked into class, which was quite full, and put my mess of a towel down at the top of my mat.  I noticed someone had done that at the beginner class, and I had followed suit when my sweaty palms would no longer hold my down-dog in place without slipping.  I looked around.  Everyone else had full-sized towels.  Then I remembered the large towels the studio rents.

"Oh no," I wondered, never having gone to hot yoga before.  "What is going to happen to me?"

The teacher came in, and the room heated up.  I started wishing that I, too, had on booty work-out shorts like some of the others in the room.  After the "core" section, which is thankfully short, I had transformed from a human into a waterfall.  Perspiration was pouring down my face, legs and arms.  I saw that others had little sweat rivers cascading off their bodies.   It was like being in a rain forest.  By the end of class, my contacts started falling out because my face was so wet.

I left completely drenched.  Thankfully, it was a warm day so I didn't worry about walking home wet, but I imagine in the winter, I'll have to change out of my sweat clothes for fear of them freezing in place on me.  I checked out the prices of the tank tops they sold, and again decided I would get these and my booty shorts from Target.