Sweat | Your Forehead Should Touch Your Toes

Vinyasa yoga was supposed to be easy. The room is only heated to 85 degrees and the class is a mere 75 minutes, as compared to the 105 degree, 90 minute Bikram practice that I’ve become accustomed to. I wore tiny little Bikram clothes even though I was fully aware that in the Vinyasa world it’s more customary to don a capri legging or a yoga pant. (As a post 30-day challenge yoga aficionado, I’ve decided that I should give those around me ample opportunity to admire my spectacular yoga physique.) I brought a towel, but only as a formality really. I figured the Vinyasa practice would be a leisurely walk in the park, a light jog in comparison to the miles of sprints I’d been doing for the past month. And so I entered the hot room (or as I referred to it in my head, the moderately warm room) with far more confidence than I deserved to have.

You see, before this whole project, I dabbled in the art of Vinyasa yoga. More than dabbled, actually, I bought a 3-month membership at the yoga studio just down the street from my dorm ($25 a month for students, hello steal). I went 3-4 times a week for the better part of those three months, and by the end, I felt pretty confident in my yoga skills. (If I had known the term “yogini” then, I definitely would have worked it into casual conversation with new people I met at parties.) But then of course I took a month off, ran a lot so that my hips tightened up like nobody’s business, and threw myself into a Bikram hot room for thirty days in a row.

Bikram is completely different from Vinyasa, in everything from temperature to dialogue to the direction you’re supposed to face when you lay in shavasana. Vinyasa wasn’t anything like the practice that I had just devoted myself to for the better part of a month. But that didn’t stop me from feeling like I was still going to be effing terrific at it.

As you may have already guessed, that feeling wasn’t exactly spot-on.

You know how six year old girls perform in ballet recitals? A lot of them have the moves down for the most part, but there’s always that one in the back who’s completely clueless. Every now and then she kicks her leg out to the side (in the opposite direction as everyone else is kicking) or spastically shoots an arm up in the air (while everyone else is reaching gracefully towards the audience), and she spends the whole damn dance whipping her head around so that she can look at her friends and see what she’s supposed to be doing.

That was me in the Vinyasa studio.

The movements felt so fast in comparison to the slow, calculated postures of Bikram. My quads screamed in protest with each warrior pose and my arms shook by the third half push-up (the wonderfully named chattaronga). And another thing- I was sweaty.

Not light-jog sweaty. I was Bikram, distance-sprints, lacrosse-game-in-July-with-no-subs sweaty. It dripped from my arms, ran down my legs, stung my eyes and found its way up my nose. This also surprised me, as the room was a solid 20 degrees cooler than the sauna I usually practice in. But as I looked around, I noticed something even more surprising- not everyone was sweating like I was. In fact, it didn’t seem like anybody was sweating like I was. Even my darling friend Annabelle, who has a summer membership at the Vinyasa yoga studio and attended class with me twice this week, told me she had noticed that the tops of my feet had been sweating while hers had not. It appeared I had become something of a sweat anomaly.

This fascinated me. I went home and told my family, called a few friends, and considered sending out a tweet about how very, very sweaty I had gotten at my first post-Bikram yoga class. I googled something along the lines of does Bikram make you sweat a lot in other activities? and discovered a few possible explanations for my overzealous sweat glands:

I have a condition called Hyperhidrosis. (Nothing like a good look at WebMD to make you remember that death is imminent.)

I was born with more sweat glands than the average woman.

I am morbidly obese.

I am in good shape.

I chose to ignore the first three explanations and skip straight to the fourth. I’m in good shape! Those who are physically fit usually sweat more! All that Bikram and supplementary cardio have finally begun to pay off!

Well, kind of. 75 minutes in the Vinyasa studio and it hurt to lift my arms for three days, but I’m a fighter. The soreness was gone by my third class. By the end of the week I was noticing a lot of other people in the studio who seemed to be sweating as profusely as I was. To my delight, I also found that most of these especially sweaty people looked to be in terrific shape. (I was probably seeking out observational evidence to confirm my own theory, but I really just don’t want to have Hyperhidrosis.)

So all in all, Vinyasa was sweatier than expected and is well on its way to giving me biceps like Arnold Schwarzenegger.

I forced my mom and Annabelle into a post-class photo op. (Very few people can look this good while this sweaty.)

In other news, we have a very special week coming up! Tomorrow morning my mom and I shall be embarking on a yoga road trip. Tuesday through Friday we’ll be driving from Rhode Island to Cape Cod, mooching off of friends, hitting the beach, and of course, practicing a lot of yoga along the way. Personally, I’m most excited for 7 am on Friday morning: paddleboard yoga. We’re going to be yoga-ing on a freaking paddleboard. There’s a good chance it’s just going to turn into a sophisticated swimming lesson, but still.

So feel free to check in tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that, because I’ll be posting every night of the trip. This is going to be a yoga adventure for the books, my friends.

Namaste,
Hannah

“The practice itself, done consistently and accurately, is the real teacher.” -Tim Miller

As my friend Julie and I walked into the foreign studio for my 30th Bikram class in 30 days, I was surprised by how calm I felt. This was supposed to be a landmark, a momentous occasion, a practice to be forever remembered. I thought my hands would feel jittery as I laid out my mat, at least. But I only felt steady and serene as I told the instructor at the front desk that this was the last day of my 30-day challenge. (Humble anonymity just isn’t really my thing.)

The instructor, a kind-faced woman named Louise, recognized my name as I wrote it down on the sign-in list. I recognized her as well, and she quickly explained that she had taught my mom for years. Louise was one of my mom’s favorite instructors of all time! Even if I wasn’t finishing out my challenge at my home studio, it was comforting to know that I was still in good hands. And as I looked around, I realized that I recognized a fair number of yogis from my home studio in and around the hot room. Suddenly the foreign studio didn’t feel so foreign. This could be a good place to cross the finish line after all.

Julie and I set up our mats and then headed towards the bathroom. Her long auburn hair was in a loose braid down her back; mine was tangled in what could’ve been an abandoned ostrich nest on top of my head. (The last time Julie had come to practice with me, she noted that the whole shebang would’ve been much easier if we were bald. I heartily agreed.) The bathroom line was unusually long, but I have to imagine everyone was thinking the same thing we were: the only thing harder than doing a Bikram yoga class would be doing a Bikram yoga class whilst having to pee.

And then, something miraculous happened.

“Excuse me, are you Hannah?” A woman with dark hair asked from behind us in line. I’d definitely seen her in class before.

“Yes, I’m Hannah,” I answered in surprise.

“Oh, I was just reading your blog!” the woman exclaimed, “I absolutely love it, it is so funny.”

My jaw actually dropped. Could this be? I have a fan? I’m getting recognized now?!

“Thank you!” I answered, sputtering like I’d just been dunked in ice water. “Thank you so much, you have no idea how much that means to me.” My hands were clammy. My heart rate was through the roof. Julie and I just beamed at each other. If it was possible to be starstruck by my own sense of stardom, then I was. But the wonderful woman wasn’t finished yet.

“This is Hannah,” she turned to her friends, “she has a blog about her 30-day challenge. It’s hilarious and smart and insightful; you guys should really check it out.” The women behind her in line smiled at me and nodded, muttering things like oh yes, of course and well that sounds awesome, we’ll have to look it up. It felt like one of those moments I’d talk about on a radio show with Ryan Seacrest ten years from now, when one of my books tops the New York Times Bestseller List. (“Hannah, when did you first know that you had hit it big?” “Well, Ryan, it all began in the bathroom line at a Bikram yoga studio…”)

Was this real life? Had I died and gone to blogger heaven? Julie, a fellow writer and one of my best editors, looked just as excited as I felt. As soon as the women rounded the corner to enter the bathroom, we turned to each other and high-fived with such enthusiasm, we could’ve been third graders on the playground who just won a round of partner tag. We took our turns in the bathroom, smiled some more, and entered the hot room with our heads held high.

The heat that had once felt so oppressive and evil now seemed to greet me with a familiar, sweaty embrace. Since Day 1, my body has been changing. I don’t mind the sweat much anymore; in fact, sometimes it feel like I’m not sweating enough. I can stand on a locked knee for more than just a few seconds. I can latch my fingers onto my big toes when the instructor tells us to bring our foreheads to our feet. I can see my foot start to drift over my head as I kick back into standing bow.

My butt still isn’t anywhere close to the ground when I sit on my knees. Nearly every instructor I’ve had seems perplexed by this particular inflexibility, Louise included. But rather than be embarrassed by my arrestingly tight ligaments, I’ve come to think of them as a distinguished characteristic. You know, like a wooden cane or a monocle. I’m just that girl with the tight knees. (Not to say that I’m going to stop working at stretching them out. Rome wasn’t built in a day.)

Louise’s enthusiasm during practice was infectious and her cues were fantastic. Focusing would’ve been easier if my mind hadn’t been so busy singing its excitement to the tune of 50 Cent (go Hannah, it’s Day 30, we gonna party like it’s day 30), but I was able to shut her up after the first couple of poses. I drifted in and out of the zone. I breathed through my nose. I let the sweat run freely down my face.

Every practice is exactly the same, but also completely different. I’ve come to love that about Bikram yoga. The heat might be stifling, the practice might seem endless, and the sweat might actually go up your nose, but the dialogue never changes. The only thing that changes is you.

Just before Louise told us to lie down for the final shavasana of the class, another miracle happened.

“Congratulations, Hannah, on completing your 30-day challenge!” she announced. And, as if on cue, the room erupted in claps and cheers. A full, boisterous round of applause. I could only look at Julie in ecstatic awe. All I need now is a picture with the Pope, and all my wildest yoga dreams will have come true.

And so, ladies and gentlemen, my Bikram yoga 30-day challenge has been completed. I feel happy, healthy, and fully qualified in claiming sweat to be a very close friend. It wasn’t always fun, and it was almost never easy. But in the words of Kelly Clarkson, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger (because your muscles will adapt to the poses eventually), stand a little taller (because the spine strengthening series really helps with lower back pain), doesn’t mean you’ll smell good when you get home. Or something.

I’ve received buckets upon buckets of fan mail begging me not to stop blogging, and I’ve had to change my phone number due to an overwhelming number of teary calls from readers who knew my 30-day challenge was coming to an end. But please don’t fret, my devoted fan base-

THE BLOGGING WILL CONTINUE!

I repeat, the blogging will continue. My big challenge finish wasn’t the end of my yoga adventure, but rather an extended beginning. I’ve become something of a yoga addict. There’s a very real possibility that if I stopped now, I’d start to look a lot like Christian Bale in The Fighter. Not to mention I’ve had a pretty awesome time describing my sweat in painstaking detail and cracking cheesy jokes for you guys, so I hope you’ll join me in weeks to come for more yoga adventures.

This week I’ll be trying some Vinyasa yoga. Upward facing dog, downward dog, sideways dog, hot dog, you name it- I’ll be all up in that business. Check in next Monday to see how it goes. (I have to imagine my Vinyasa skills can’t be any worse than my Bikram skills, right? Right?!)

Namaste,
Hannah

P.S. I know I promised pictures of the Pope, but for some reason he never responded to my invitation. Feel free to enjoy celebratory sweaty pictures of Julie and me instead.