On the 12th Day of Yoga, my yogini gave to me... hyperventilation!
My body is falling apart. Due to an injury, I slipped off the exercise bandwagon for the better part of 2007, so my sudden rediscovered love of pick-up soccer and hiking had been wreaking havoc with my joints, muscles, bones, skin, nails, etc... So on December 9th I restarted my Bikram yoga practice in order to fix myself up.
Now for those of you who don't know, Bikram yoga is "hot" yoga, meaning that it takes place in a heated and humidified room, about 105 degrees and at least 40% humidity, I believe. It's a set series of 26, static postures designed to compress and stretch joints and muscle groups, forcing oxygenation and repair of the tissues. Or something like that, I don't really know, I'm pretty much just making all this up as I go, but what I DO know is that it works for me.
Further, most Bikram studios offer a "30 classes in 30 days" challenge, whereby if you complete 30 classes in a month, you win a t-shirt, a week of free classes, some passes and your name on an Internet plaque somewhere. I decided to embark on this challenge, mainly out of financial consideration; these classes are expensive and I need to get the most bang out of my buck, as well as the free extra week to offset the cost. But also because my knees were on the brink of exploding from the soccer.
So basically I'm doing yoga to support my futbol habit.
Being a room for an hour and a half with hot, sweaty, scantily clad people doesn't hurt either...
Anyway, nothing too exciting to report. Some days are easier than others, and the practice gets easier every day, with the possible exception of a super hardcore class I had on the 11th day that left me gasping for air on the floor of the lobby in a pool of my own sweat a full 5 minutes after class was over.
It's okay... breathe... focus on the half-naked people in Spandex... Ommmmm.