…beyond nice.

A friend of mine has just launched Fitropolis.com, a site that helps people find gyms and yoga studios in Seattle. They’re working on adding Pilates, personal trainers, boot camps – you name it. Take a look and let them know what you think.

Just a bit of background about this friend. A few friends and I were out having dinner with her husband, she was then six months pregnant and not at the dinner gathering, so of course the topic turned to where’s our lovely pregger lady? Her husband said something about her being in Vancouver for some billion miles bike marathon. Our food arrived and we moved on to eating sushi. At some point, her husband explained that she was riding along in a van as support crew for the bike marathon. And one guy’s response, “Oh, when you said she was in a bike marathon, I assumed she was riding in it. And even at six months pregnant, it made perfect sense that she would do that. Why wouldn’t she?” We all nodded in unison.

That’s the type of awesome she is, so you know if she’s helping you find a gym or yoga studio, it’ll be awesome. I don’t know if you’ll be “six months pregnant and still in shape to ride in a bike marathon” awesome, but hey awesome is awesome, just roll with it.

I’ve noticed a lot of random people stumbling on this site from doing searches on “I hate Bikram” or “Bikram sucks”. This entire post is for these stragglers.

I’m going to assume for your sake that you’re not here because you want me to trash talk some dude named Bikram that I don’t personally know. I’m assuming you’re here because you’ve just gone to your first Bikram Yoga class and it’s so freaking hard/discouraging but you know it’s good for you, so you’re hoping someone else who also thinks the class sucks might have a few tips for you to survive. I’m going to start from the beginning for those that are thinking about trying this class.

What to wear? Think skimpy; go as skimpy as you are comfortable with – without being nude of course (ouch, my poor eyes, I don’t care if you’re stupid hot, some of those poses are not meant for the nude body). Most of the ladies in my class wear sports bras and shorts, the guys wear shorts or Speedos (ouch, my poor eyes for real). Keep in mind, the class will be heated to 105 degrees with 40-50% humidity. Every stitch of clothing you have on will be sopping wet by the end of class, if you enjoy the sensation of loads of sopping wet hot clothing touching your skin, by all means, go nuts. I prefer yoga pants, but one yoga instructor has told me instructors prefer students wearing shorts so that they can see if the students’ knees are locking properly. So skimping on the cloth does help in correcting poor postures. I tried wearing shorts to please them, but I got so used to using my pants legs to wipe my eyes whenever I’m about to touch my forehead to my knees that I couldn’t go without them (yes, the pant legs are soaking, but less so than my face by that time).

What to bring? Water…buy, beg, borrow, steal, whatever, make sure you have some. Mat and towel. You can rent those at some gym if you don’t want to buy them right away. Bring a towel that covers most if not all of your mat, it’s to keep you from slipping to your doom, not just to wipe your face. One of my classmates has a mat that’s made of terry cloth material, if you have one of those, you don’t really need another towel for your mat. Far as choosing the “perfect” mat goes, if your classroom is carpeted like mine, you don’t have to worry about loftiness of the mat, but if it’s hardwood, something with a bit more padding might be nice. Whatever you do, don’t buy the more expensive environmentally friendly Jute mat like I did, it smells rank to begin with – baking in your sweat with the natural fiber doesn’t make it smell like petunias. I eventually went back for a Nike mat that’s nice and light with a carry cord (I bike to class, so this is a sweet feature for me).

Where to go? Click on “Class Finder” on the left bar on this site.

How to survive? Be very hydrated before class. DO NOT go in with a hangover. I’ve done that more times than I care to admit and it makes you hate Bikram for inventing this crap, his mom for giving birth to him, yourself for drinking and your mom for raising such a lush, all at once. It sucks! Drink lots of water before class and a lot more after. If you’re a regular coffee drinker, do know that coffee dehydrates you, so drink even more water to offset that. Soda is not water.

I’ve mentioned this before in another post, but the easiest class will always be the first class of the day because in order to heat up the class properly, the instructor has to be there two hours prior, which generally doesn’t happen. The difference in temperature is HUGE. No, you might not get the “proper” Bikram Yoga experience, but if you’re still new to this, it makes the class quite a bit more enjoyable.

On days when I can’t make it to the first class, I try to show up to class at least 15 minutes prior and just lay on my mat. This allows me to adjust to the new stuffy room temperature gradually and it feels easier on my system when we do start exercising. I’ve done the running into the room at the last minute thing before, and it’s really a system shock and overload, but I’m a big heat-wuss, so some of you might not mind.

I’ve been going to class once a week for a few months now. I know once a week is not much, but it’s all I have time for between rock climbing, hiking and volunteering…and not to mention newbie self-trained vegetarian chef in the making (gourmet veggie cooking takes more time than I could ever imagine with all chopping, peeling, de-seeding and making every sauce from scratch). Still, even going just once a week, I’ve noticed a good amount of difference in flexibility and body sculpting…then again, I’m vain and I always think I look fabulous, so you shouldn’t take my word for it.

Despite having gone to more than a handful of classes, there are still days when the heat of the class would come really damned close to killing me. About two weekends ago, when I was in class with a slight hangover and a really bad crick in the neck from head banging a bit too much during a metal show the night before…I nearly blacked out every time I stood up. I would do the first set of a standing pose, start seeing black spots, lay down for the second set, get up for the next pose, rinse repeat. It was very humbling and horrible.

Then there are still days when things just don’t go well. There are days when it feels like I can’t get the poses right or the instructor is picking on me with incessant, “Champagne, raise your chin. Champagne, tuck your chin. Champagne, raise your elbow a bit higher. Champagne, make sure your heels are aligned.” Shut up! I know she’s not picking on me, but being in the heat gets a me pretty grouchy already, having someone constantly point out my bad posing does nothing to improve my disposition. Later on, when the class is over, I do look back and appreciate the good instructions.

One of my classmates recommended the book “Bikram’s Beginning Yoga Class” by Bikram Choudhury because she felt it gave her a better idea of how to do the poses properly. I got the book not too long ago, and I have to say I was a bit disappointed. It had a lot of pictures on how to do the poses correctly by people who have been practicing since before I was born. I was hoping there would be more pictures of people who couldn’t quite hit the final pose and to see what I might be able to do in early practicing to maximize the pose benefits. There is a lot of text laced with little antidotes from him that I found to be more distracting than helpful. I do find the book to be handy reference, so it’s not a complete waste of my money, it just wasn’t as helpful as I had hoped for.

So why do this? Aside from the obvious health benefits (if it doesn’t kill me first), and the promise of a more limber self…there is the simple fact that I swear clothing fits better after class. I’ve never looked better in a tank top or bikini than right after a good extra hot yoga class – well, after a good shower of course. The heat of the class will get rid of any water retention due to hormones or too much salt intake. Oh and I love love love the limber feeling right after. I ride my bike to class and usually on my way to class, I’m super tense and I fight every bump on the road which causes my teeth to rattle, after class my entire body purrs and hugs the road. Rawr!

Yes, it’s worth the pain. It really does get easier most of the time and it starts to get addictive even if you continue to hate it. Of all the love-hate relationship you can get yourself into, getting into one that is actually good for your mental and physical might not be such a terrible thing.

I must confess, I hate Bikram Yoga. I hate the smell of the collective B.O. from 30 sweaty strangers, I hate the constant sting in my eyes from sweat pouring in them, I hate the awkward poses, but most of all, I hate the horrible oppressive heat with suffocating humidity that makes me feel like hell hath arrived on Earth and the fucking devil is telling me to stre-e-e-e-e-tch.

I knew I would not instantly take to this yoga class before I ever started (I bought myself a 5-class card to force myself to go back) because I’ve never been one to enjoy intense heat. When the temperature gets a tad above 75, I get cranky. By the end of a proper Bikram Yoga class, the temperature should be 105 degrees with 60% humidity, but even before then, I would lay on my mat wondering what the hell is wrong with me and why I would voluntarily walk into a giant Easy Bake oven. Then I would randomly catch a whiff of my eco-friendly yoga mat and wonder how the hell did the cat piss mat evolve to a marmot den that has been baked in the mid-summer sun (think hamster/rat pee + mud + decomposing grass + heat).

Of course, I also made a rookie mistake of showing up to class on Sunday with a hangover. Yeah, despite my good intentions I went out Saturday night for 2 birthday parties and woke up with a bad case of cotton-mouth on Sunday. Later that day, in the middle of yoga, I came up with a bad case of I-wish-I-was-dead. If you’ve had a bad hangover before, you’ll know how it feels to have poison sitting in your system and the best cure is to either poison yourself into oblivion again, or to lay on a couch all day and let the poison slowly seep out. With Bikram Yoga, the heat is supposed to force toxin out of your body, so imagine having all that poison trying to escape your body at once. The best part of this was that we’re not supposed to leave the room once class started so all the joy, hope and magical wonder was mine to behold.

Unfortunately for me, the hour and a half of detox only caused the poison to seep into every part of my system and I felt “ick” all day Monday, and the only thing I can come up with to get rid of the ick is to go back to another yoga class to flush the rest of that crap out. So instead of waiting till next Sunday, I dragged my very very sorry ass up at 6 this morning to attend the 6:45 class. I have to say, I felt like a million bucks after today’s class. All day long, I felt all loose, light and limber but as the day progressed, my muscles slowly but surely felt heavier and tightened up again, leaving me with the urge to go back to another class to chase the limber euphoria. I can’t wait until the next class!

With spring kicking into full gear around here and much of snow melted on some mountain top, I figured I could finally hike something other than Mount Si. Don’t get me wrong, I love Mount Si and all, but no decent self-respecting seasoned hiker would ever claim that place as a “real hike”, it’s more like an extend walk around your backyard. I’ve really missed my favorite place, Mailbox Peak, so I made plans to solo hike it on Saturday.

On Saturday morning, I bounced out of bed super early all mentally charged and ready to go. After a quick breakfast, I started packing for the hike and I felt this strange sense of dread spreading through my body. The body has a strange way of remembering things that the mind forgets. It remembered how much this hike burned. It’s quite strange to have your mind war with your body. The mind said, “Come on, let’s go! We miss our trees. We could definitely use some clarity in the head.” The body replied, “Oh, hell no! We’re a bit out of hiking shape. Remember how much that place hurts? Remember how we’ve vowed to never go back again after the first time? Remember!!?”

That hike did not disappoint, I loved every bit of that hike. I hugged many a trees on the way up and down, and thanked them endlessly for their help with their rooted staircase and trunks for handholds. The smell of damp forest and the echoes of birds created a calming and wondrous place. I remembered why despite vowing to never return to such an evil god-forsaken rough hike, it became my all time favorite battery recharging hike. This year is proving to be a much warmer year already, the view was very different compared to late April last year…there was so much snow then that the lower mailbox was nowhere to be found.

I woke up incapable of moving on Sunday morning. I guess that’s just what happens when a person goes from hiking every single weekend to hiking once a month and thinking it’s okay to go at the same pace. It wasn’t just a minor ache in the calf muscles, I had pain shooting throughout the entire length of my legs, if I tried to do anything other than lie perfectly still. Of course, I wasn’t having any of it.

I stretched, took a couple ibuprofen and went out for a bike ride. Even with the hills and all, the bike ride wasn’t all that bad…so long as my body stayed in motion. At one point, I stopped by Trader Joe’s, I got off my bike, stumbled around trying to support my own weight on the worthless stumps I sometimes call my legs and involuntarily let out a load groan that sounded like a dying animal getting kicked on its head. It was so pathetic and horrible everyone stopped, turned around and stared at me. I don’t understand what’s their problems, it’s just a short Asian girl stumbling around the sidewalk like she could possibly be drunk in the middle of day while groaning like a wounded beast, I’m sure that kind of thing happens all the time, it is Capitol Hill.

In the afternoon, I checked out a Bikram Yoga class as I’ve been meaning to do (yes, I know I need a new sports activity like I need a brain aneurysm). Two things to note about Bikram Yoga, the poses seem easier than I thought they would be, and the class will make you sweat your nuts off. I’ve backpacked for days in the scorching sun, I don’t think I came near sweating this much in that 1.5 hours. My sore muscles loved the over-heated room. There were a couple one legged squat type pose that was less favored, but overall, I didn’t even notice that my legs were unhappy. It could be because I was more distracted by a couple other things with the class:

1) The heat. The temperature was set up in a slow boiling a frog method where they slowly crank up the heat so you don’t notice yourself dying slowly, but by the end of class, you’ll definitely feel well cooked.

2) My new yoga mat smells like cat piss. I picked it out because it looked all earthy and happy, but I’m pretty sure the key ingredient in the earthiness was cat piss. Sticking my face in it for one of the yoga pose was about as relaxing as enjoying the aromatherapy of a two month old litter box. Delicious.

3) Honorable mention – dude wearing nothing but a speedo. Once class got rolling, I really didn’t notice that guy, but for just a moment there, it made my eyes twitch. I can understand the practicality of that, but only a select few underwear models could pull off that look, everyone else should stick with board shorts.

It was pouring rain out when class ended. Talk about a system shock, biking home in the cold rain when you’re soaked in sweat is not quite the goofy fun that it poses to be.

Give in, silly girl, just drive next time. Fuck off, lazy bastard self, it’s only 7 blocks away.

This morning, all the weekend combined self abuse tallied itself up. Honestly, if someone offered me a walker this morning, but I have to push over a little old lady to get it – that hag would be going down so fast, but she could probably out-run me (Benny Hill credit scene on slow-mo). Sure strolling around with a walker might not be the most dignified means of getting around at the age of 30, but half hobbling and half dragging yourself around while screaming at seemingly unprovoked moments isn’t exactly the epitome of poise and grace either.

Brian has caught yet another strain of nasty bug that seems to cycle and fester in the cube farms. I think it tried to brush by me last week, it’s kind of hard to avoid when you share food and booze with a sick person. Brian’s cure-all for this was to hole himself up and sleep the entire weekend, my cure-all was to go on a hike that could hand me my ass on a silver platter. He still sounds a little wheezy and congested today; I am incapacitated today…still, I’m not sick, so my cure-all is obviously infallible.