Hot yoga is hot yoga right? Wrong.
In Bikram Yoga I’ve happily spent many a class lying on the floor enjoying the sauna before joining back in with a set sequence. Nothing could prepare me for hot pod flow yoga.
The teacher was outside as I came into the hut. The whole pod is an inflatable tent like structure that is heated to a cosy level of hot.
Clearly looking like a lost beginner triggered the sympathy of the teacher who told me to sit at the front in the middle. They way it was less hot and I could see her demonstration.
I don’t often wear my glasses, I see about 30cm in front of me without them so contacts give me that sense of normality even when moving fast or in the rain. Unfortunately, on this occasion I’d opted for my glasses. Luckily, the front row was close enough I could peer at the instructor even when sweating them off.
Unluckily, I was stranded in said front row between a contortionist and a ballerina. Both the agile creatures next to me and the man behind came very close to being toppled on.
I have never fallen over so much in such a short space of time! I stood on one leg for over a minute a few days ago… Why was I know threatening to squash everyone in the pod?
The hour was long. I just about managed the downward dog and was still trying to move my feet forward when the flow seemed to have gone full circle again. Trying to create a cobra was a disaster. The pushing knees down and lowering the upper body turned into a strange jolting motion when I did it. It was like bambi on ice skates after 10 vodkas.
The final 10 minute savaasana and head massage stopped me from bursting into tears of frustration.
I snuck out hoping everyone else in there was short sighted and feeling grateful I wore black.