I haven’t talked much about my physical regimen lately, as it’s been, well, mostly non-existent. I have little bouts of workouts but I don’t really stick to anything. I haven’t really been checking what I’m eating, either, so now all the stuff that I got last year is a bit tight.
In an effort to take better care of myself, I headed out to a 5$ Moksha Yoga class this morning. It’s hot yoga, but not Bikram. I’ve been reading about both and I like Moksha better for a few reasons:
- It’s Canadian–2 yogis from Toronto put it together
- There is a set of 40 poses, but you don’t need to use them all in every class; it leaves space for variety
- Class duration ranges between 60 and 90 minutes, so you can take whatever fits your schedule
- You can do other types of yoga in the heated room, not just Moksha
- It’s green, from the cork floor (anti-slip! awesome!) to the heating to the soap in the shower room
- It’s not competitive (i.e., not “Moksha Yoga National competition” of any kind, like Bikram has)
I haven’t been to an actual yoga class for about a year, but I’ve been doing it on and off in my house, although more off lately. But every time I bother to do a bit, I realize how much I miss it. In any case, I head to the studio and pay my fee. It’s already a bit hotter in the studio, but I’m not even in the room yet. I head to the changing room, take off my clothes. I have shorts and a sports bra on, having been told that pants are a bad idea and that I know I sweat a lot from the tummy, so a long top is out of the question.
I enter the room. Okay, not so bad, I mean, it’s hot, but it’s not worse than a hot and humid summer day in Montréal in July, when the temperature goes above 35. That’s what I’m thinking while I am lying down in savasana, not really moving. After 10 minutes I feel a drop of sweat roll down my chest. I haven’t moved. The teacher shows up eventually, and starts the session. We start with a little breathing, and the first pose is the tree.
At first it wasn’t so bad, but as we move along the poses, the more difficult ones stand out. That’s when the difference between a simple hot summer day (probably spent inside as much as possible and without physical exertion) and hot yoga shows. Sometimes it gets hard to breathe, and you need to stop and refocus. I had to take breaks along the way, stand in tadasana or go back down in child’s pose or savasana in order not to drop. Poses that I can handle perfectly well in regular circumstances, such as runner’s lunge or even downward dog, now make my thighs quiver and my shoulders shake (although I did have pain in the shoulders and neck this morning so I don’t know that it might have been that, and not the heat).
I’m not a very sweaty person. I mean, I do sweat, but not terribly much, as opposed to my boyfriend who comes back from the gym with soaked clothes. But I’ve never seen so much water gush out of my pores. At one point I had to take my glasses off because I had sweat beads in my eyelashes and I needed to wipe them off. I couldn’t put them back on, so I relied on my ears to follow the poses at this point. My shorts, which are usually quick-wicking (tested in Cuba) were drenched, and so was my bra. My skin felt tingly and I just walked around with a smile on my face, not rushing, just relaxed. I haven’t felt so good in such a long time…
I absolutely cannot afford a membership, so I’ll try to get on the volunteering program, given that they’re okay with me moving away in September. Otherwise I’ll have to stick to the three cheap classes (Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays). But I definitely want to see where this road can lead if I just stick to it.