The Unhappiest Place on Earth

As I mentioned in yesterday's post, today I wanted to share my experiences with a little thing called Bikram yoga, or "Satan's Lair", as I've likened it to the fiery reaches of hell. I was first introduced to the practice in February of 2005 when my then roommate, Andrea, convinced me that it was the greatest thing since sliced bread. "I feel like a new person after a class!", she told me. So, we headed out one snowy morning to Om on the Range (yes, that's the name of the place), paid our fee, and geared up for a sweaty hour and a half of yoga.

Now for those readers who aren't knowledgable about the subject, Bikram yoga is yoga practiced in a room heated to 105 degrees fahrenheit. The idea is to sweat out your toxins while holding various poses. Many Bikram websites claim all sorts of health benefits, such as "weight normalization" and "detoxification".

The teacher premised the class by apologizing that their heaters weren't working properly and the room would not be quite up to the normal temperature. In retrospect, I thank God, because I'm not sure I would have made it had the room been heated to the normal temperature. It was ninety minutes of pure hell, and afterward I did not feel like a "new woman". I felt like a woman who desperately needed a shower and possibly and IV of fluids to replenish what was lost.

I went back one more time, God only knows why, and had an equally horrible experience. I vowed never to go again, and stuck to my ashtanga for the rest of the year. Then last week, as I was walking up Clark street to Nick's apartment, I noticed an advertisement for an unlimited month of Bikram for $29. The studio was only three blocks from Nick's, so I thought, why not? Maybe this time it will be different.

It was worse. I had to leave the first class after twenty minutes. I was seeing stars and couldn't bear the thought of passing out in front of an entire class of people (oddly, the Bikram classes are ALWAYS full--why can everyone else do this but ME?!)so I just picked up my mat and ran. The teacher came running after me and made me lie down for ten minutes and drink a bottle of Gatorade. I left feeling sheepish and defeated...and in a state of disbelief that I just paid money to feel like I was dying. However, a few days later I rallied and went back. I drank a gallon of water and ate a Luna bar one hour before class, and surprisingly, made it through without too much trouble. "I can do this!", I thought to myself, picturing the sleek abdominals I would soon possess.

A few days later on my third trip, I wilted once more. Dizzy, seeing stars, and feeling nauseated, I spent the better part of the class lying on my mat. The teacher kept coming up to me asking if I was alright and if I'd eaten that day and brought me several bottles of Gatorade (side note: if you want some free Gatorade go to a Bikram class and act like you're dying). I felt embarrassed, but decided to try ONE LAST TIME. Same story, different day. I've accepted the fact that Bikram and I just can't make it work. While it seems like a good idea at the time, much like colon cleansing seems, it's really not worth the pain and suffering. I'll find another way to get my bod in shape, thank you.