|Photo courtesy: Sumits Yoga|
It was a typical yoga studio, or so I thought -- until the hidden vents began piping in the clouds of hot air -- turning our tiny room into a full on sweat lodge torture chamber.
Surrounded by yoga masters who could balance on one foot while completely extending the opposite leg, I struggled through the movements and "flow" as I sweated and sweated and sweated. Yes, I see the reason we needed towels to cover our mats. And extra hand cloths to wipe our faces. And frozen water bottles. This was one big sweat fest.
There were several times I had to sit/lie/rest to let the light headedness pass before I began again. And tumbling through my mind was how good this would feel if I was in a whiteout snowstorm in Park City, Utah, in December.
But I'm in Arizona. It's July. I was walking out of one heat source, paying my drop-in fee, and walking into another. Here's a thought...what about doing hot yoga outside?
Surprisingly, there was some slight relief as I opened the door at the end of my 80-minute class to walk to my car in 103 degree sunshine. The fresh air felt nice.
The jury's still out on if I'll go back again. I can't decide how crazy I really am.
Hot yoga. We'll see.