How I accidentally ended up in hot yoga

I tried something new the other day.

Natalie likes to do yoga, so now I like to do yoga. Anyways we sign up for a one-week free trial at this yoga studio in downtown Minneapolis. Now I’m already a bit nervous because I’m not very flexible and usually yoga is a class full of women and every one of them can balance their bodies parallel to the ground with nothing but one hand touching the floor.

Colin, you mean you can’t do that?

So I rent a yoga mat because apparently my beach towel is not yoga friendly, and into the studio we go. As soon as I walk in, something isn’t right. Now I’m a natural sweater…like if I get up from the couch too quickly my forehead might get a little damp. But by the time I walk across the room to my yoga mat, I’m already producing beads of sweat. What the hell is this?

Somewhere along the line – either they never mentioned it in the brochure, we didn’t ask, or Natalie knew and didn’t tell me, but at some point there was a bit of miscommunication. But it was too late and I was already signed up and inside of one hour of hot yoga.

What’s hot yoga you ask? Good question. Imagine doing yoga…all the stretching and moving and crazy poses and deep breathing. Now imagine that same thing inside of a steam room at the YMCA. Boom, hot yoga.

I was dripping sweat from places I didn’t even know sweat could drip from. My elbow, my kneecaps, anklebone…they are all dripping their own waterfall of sweat. The woman next to me? Dry as the Sahara.


Literally less than three minutes into the class I can’t hold a pose because my feet have sweated through the mat and I was slipping all over the place like I had soapy feet in the shower. Next time you take a shower I want you to soap up the bottom of your feet and try to do a walking lunge. That’s where I was at.

So our kind yoga instructor gets me a towel. I think she meant for it to be to wipe my face off, but I put it under my back foot. Five minutes later, another towel…this one went under my front foot. Ms. Yoga didn’t look thrilled about it. But whatever, I’m here and I can finally move without being on a slip and slide. Proceed. Thirty minutes in and my chin looks like a faucet someone didn’t turn off all the way.

After a full hour we reached the end of class and the craziest thing happened…I enjoyed it. But what was even crazier was how the class ended. For the last three or so minutes they have you go into corpse pose. Basically just lay down and take a nap. It’s great. If every workout I’ve ever done promised to end with a nap on the floor I’d be a lot skinnier than I am.


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