Go Hard or Go Ohm, Baby!
This is Post Season Masochism at its Finest, folks.
I went to a Hot Yoga class today.
Now, I'm no yogi, but I know my danurasana from my utkatasana. In my (somewhat ludicrous) attempt to actually BECOME a yogi - this is my latest stab at dealing with nagging injuries - I've committed myself to no less than ten yoga classes in two weeks (we'll see where it goes from there). Today was Hot Yoga. A 100 degree room at 50% humidity, although given the weather (92!!! In NJ!!! In September!!! It's SUPPOSED to be 72!!!), and the helpless, please-make-this-end-NOW stares on the faces of the regular students, it was clearly a little higher than that today.
I figured I could handle it. The previous day I'd found myself in an inverted 'L' with my feet up against the wall in a sort of half handstand, while the teacher told me to, "look through my heart chakra."
My WHAT? Do I even have one of those???
Hot yoga was going to be a piece of cake after that. I'm an Ironman. I can handle a little Hot Yoga.
It started out great. I gave myself a mental pat on the back for ignoring the heat while I opened my heart-space in my down dog and let the crown of my head float toward the front of the room in my single leg stance. Things were going swimmingly until they were going, well, swimmingly. As in, swimming in my own sweat.
Let me tell you, folks... I didn't sweat buckets - I sweat a 50 gallon Rubbermaid container.
I haven't seen myself sweat that much EVER. I. Just. Don't. Sweat. Now I know why those bike thong thingies exist for those of you who do.
There was no hope for me after that... Hands and feet were slipping all over the mat as if I were playing a game of Twister with myself. My heart rate had easily climbed to Zone 5a. I began to fear every vinyasa into an inverted posture because I knew it would involve a bout of orthostatic hypotension when I returned to vertical, typically accompanied by tunnel vision and that deep feeling of nausea, that, until today I thought could only be invoked by a successful FTP test.
But my body had turned to taffy - the kind that's been sitting in your car after a long day at the beach. I could flex and bend in ways I haven't been able to flex and bend in years (that could very well have been related to the fact that the pain pathways in my brain were too busy registering temperature.... Seriously. That's the one thing I remember from neuro class: touch/pressure and pain/temperature. No kidding - look it up).
Lying in Svasana at the end of the class (the flat on your back "pose" where you do nothing and the teacher tells you it's the most important pose in your practice... Yet you're too busy going over your grocery list and the kids' soccer schedule in your head to "quiet your mind" and listen), I realized that I actually LiKED Hot Yoga.
I also realized that my heart was keeping the same arythmic beat as the music in the gym next door: boom-boom-boom... boom-boom-boom.
I'll be going back with my newly purchased Skidless Mat by Yogitoes. And I'd definitely encourage any of you who need to address some of your own nagging injuries, imbalances, or inflexibilities to try some Hot Yoga. Who knows... maybe we'll all get so flexible that we raise our seats and lower our bars and make Coach Rich proud.
If you DO go, please learn from my mistakes and take a LOT of towels. And don't expect to go anywhere - besides home to shower - afterward. Then you can marvel at your body's ability to continue sweating at the same rate until bedtime or 9pm (whichever comes first... ). It's truly amazing. In fact, you should probably take a few Salt Sticks just in case...
So if I'm not around the Haus much, I'm still around.... lurking, and gettin' my Ohm on.
I went to a Hot Yoga class today.
Now, I'm no yogi, but I know my danurasana from my utkatasana. In my (somewhat ludicrous) attempt to actually BECOME a yogi - this is my latest stab at dealing with nagging injuries - I've committed myself to no less than ten yoga classes in two weeks (we'll see where it goes from there). Today was Hot Yoga. A 100 degree room at 50% humidity, although given the weather (92!!! In NJ!!! In September!!! It's SUPPOSED to be 72!!!), and the helpless, please-make-this-end-NOW stares on the faces of the regular students, it was clearly a little higher than that today.
I figured I could handle it. The previous day I'd found myself in an inverted 'L' with my feet up against the wall in a sort of half handstand, while the teacher told me to, "look through my heart chakra."
My WHAT? Do I even have one of those???
Hot yoga was going to be a piece of cake after that. I'm an Ironman. I can handle a little Hot Yoga.
It started out great. I gave myself a mental pat on the back for ignoring the heat while I opened my heart-space in my down dog and let the crown of my head float toward the front of the room in my single leg stance. Things were going swimmingly until they were going, well, swimmingly. As in, swimming in my own sweat.
Let me tell you, folks... I didn't sweat buckets - I sweat a 50 gallon Rubbermaid container.
I haven't seen myself sweat that much EVER. I. Just. Don't. Sweat. Now I know why those bike thong thingies exist for those of you who do.
There was no hope for me after that... Hands and feet were slipping all over the mat as if I were playing a game of Twister with myself. My heart rate had easily climbed to Zone 5a. I began to fear every vinyasa into an inverted posture because I knew it would involve a bout of orthostatic hypotension when I returned to vertical, typically accompanied by tunnel vision and that deep feeling of nausea, that, until today I thought could only be invoked by a successful FTP test.
But my body had turned to taffy - the kind that's been sitting in your car after a long day at the beach. I could flex and bend in ways I haven't been able to flex and bend in years (that could very well have been related to the fact that the pain pathways in my brain were too busy registering temperature.... Seriously. That's the one thing I remember from neuro class: touch/pressure and pain/temperature. No kidding - look it up).
Lying in Svasana at the end of the class (the flat on your back "pose" where you do nothing and the teacher tells you it's the most important pose in your practice... Yet you're too busy going over your grocery list and the kids' soccer schedule in your head to "quiet your mind" and listen), I realized that I actually LiKED Hot Yoga.
I also realized that my heart was keeping the same arythmic beat as the music in the gym next door: boom-boom-boom... boom-boom-boom.
I'll be going back with my newly purchased Skidless Mat by Yogitoes. And I'd definitely encourage any of you who need to address some of your own nagging injuries, imbalances, or inflexibilities to try some Hot Yoga. Who knows... maybe we'll all get so flexible that we raise our seats and lower our bars and make Coach Rich proud.
If you DO go, please learn from my mistakes and take a LOT of towels. And don't expect to go anywhere - besides home to shower - afterward. Then you can marvel at your body's ability to continue sweating at the same rate until bedtime or 9pm (whichever comes first... ). It's truly amazing. In fact, you should probably take a few Salt Sticks just in case...
So if I'm not around the Haus much, I'm still around.... lurking, and gettin' my Ohm on.
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Comments
Yogi -- fantastic RR
Glad to see you're back in the saddle, tearing it up! I hear so many good things about hot yoga that it's on my bucket list, but for now I will have to get through life without focusing on my heart chakra...
I purchased a Groupon for a month of hot yoga a few years ago. I sweat SO much already, but easily went through two bottles of water during each hour-long session. My towel and mat were covered in sweat.
So sweaty, I couldn't hold any poses because I was slipping on everything - including myself.
All I can say is it's pretty bad, that to "cool down" the studio, they opened the door to the 105*+ TX afternoon heat.
All this said, I definitely need to get into Yoga and get some flexibility, otherwise I'm going to end up like a worn out rubber band.
Nemo!! How in the HELL were you able to do yoga after IMMT?
@ Coach P - I think I'm on Operation Rebuild 5.0 at this point. I'm hoping to be the next Carol DeFazio, so I'm at it as long as it takes to "get right" this time! Hopefully that's not TOO long.... Next time you're in NJ, I'd love to see just how flexible you are... ;-)
@Scott - I wish I'd talked to you BEFORE I'd taken the class!
@Nemo - come up early for AmZoff next year and I'll take you! I also second Peter's comment... yoga after IMMT??? HOW???
@Peter - I'd be happy to! But you're not that far away... come join me!
@Trevor - Crack me up... sorry to disappoint! I'll try to step up my game next time...
@Kim - I SWORE I'd never get into yoga. But then again, I also swore I'd never do an IM.... ;-) Congrats to Sheri!!!
The teacher's name was Danielle Mojo. I swear I can't make this stuff up.
Um, I didn't say it was pretty!
When I saw Ohm, I thought this was going to be an engineering thread...