Bend it through Bikram

A steady nervousness rushed around my entire body, leaving my arms itchy and cheeks flushed. Attempting to maintain composure, I walked into my first Bikram yoga class, chin-up and fully dressed in thick black sweats. I, like most new students, had no idea what to expect. All I knew was that it was going to be warm, correction hot, very hot.
It was 6 a.m., the sky was still pitch black and foggy, I was squeezing in an early morning session to fulfill a requirement for a college yoga class that, did I mention, was due that afternoon. “Unprepared” was an absolute understatement.
I walked up to the counter, that was literally almost as high as I am tall, and checked in. A glowing, peaceful looking man introduced himself as the instructor, Joe; he walked me through the 26-posture, 90-minute series, and pointed me in the direction of the studio. My nervousness elevated.
“What am I doing here?” I questioned myself.
I walked into the well-lit mirrored room, feeling completely awkward, and set my mat near the back wall—as per Joe’s instruction. A musk, that had soaked into the carpet from the class the night prior settled around me; it was almost overpowering. I looked around, shamelessly spying on the other students. The men and women in the front of the room were absolutely statuesque. Long, lean muscles stretched down their bodies, which were, by the way, covered in very little clothing. Again: “What am I doing here?”
Joe walked into the room and made his way to the front of the class to begin the series with deep Pranayama breathing. One posture in and I was completely confused. “Breath in when… breath out when?” I thought. My eyes quickly shifted around the room, until Joe’s met them; with a reassuring nod I began the Asanas.
As I bent into my first set of Half Moon pose I felt fear, anxiety, and personal pain rushing right out my fingertips—I also felt sweat rushing down the back of my neck, soaking my sweats. Halfway through Awkward pose the sweatshirt came off with a heavy plop.
I slowly followed the motions of the students in front me, correcting my stance and position with the instruction of Joe’s calming voice. For the entire 90 minutes I was completely in another world. I felt the whole gamut of emotion from fear, anguish, and anxiety to freedom, joy, and peace.
As I moved from standing to floor series I fought back the urge to pass out, throw up, or leave the room crying (insert yours here), but I stuck with it. I made it to the end and, as class concluded, the students applauded my first effort. I felt welcomed. I knew that my practice had been less-than–par, but I felt something so powerful emerging from the center of my being. I collapsed into final Savasna, my heart still pounding. It was such a great feeling. As I slowly got up I felt this peace all around me. I knew at that moment that I was addicted.
Recently, my one-year mark practicing Bikram passed, but I still feel that same sense of peace and joy just like it were the first time. Is my practice up to par yet? No. I doubt it’ll ever be as perfect as I want it. I’m always learning, fighting, and challenging myself during the 90-minute routine. Sometimes, I have to fight myself just to get there. But every time I complete a practice I feel my heart growing, I feel that I am becoming more and more myself. This feeling is an absolute gift…and for it I am deeply grateful.
Lately, I’ve found my practice crossing over into my daily life. Tree pose while waiting for my food to warm up at lunch, Eagle after sitting at my desk for too long—when my wrists hurt from too much typing, or my neck hurts from leaning over my desk, I reach up and trace from ceiling to wall with my pointed fingertips. I bend back and feel the warm release soak my spine. It’s the ultimate exhale and a practice that I seem to be taking everywhere I go.