My Hot Yoga nightmare

It wasn’t until I was in the changing room that I realised that I hadn’t brought my shorts with me for Hot Yoga. On top I was wearing a vest, so that was ok, except that I wasn’t sure I had a bra on underneath. I had vision of embarrassing exposure every time we did cobra. No, it was OK, I found I was wearing a bra after all. So I could do the class in my undies — less than I would have liked to be wearing, but in reality not so different from what most yoginis would be wearing from choice. No need to be so shy.

Then I realised I hadn’t got my mat or mat-towel with me either. I had to borrow them from reception. That done, finally I went upstairs to the hot studio. I was now running a bit later than I had wanted to be and the studio was already pretty full. Not wanting to be at the front, I looked for a space in the back rows. I was ready to put my mat down but the guy next to me said he was saving the space for his friends. He looked super-cool, muscular, bit of an American accent. I was intimidated, but determined: I had to go somewhere after all. So I identified a spot where I could just about squeeze my mat in. As I unrolled it, I found that my loan mat was weirdly proportioned — very long and thin. I would be bulging over the edges it was so narrow. Oh well, I guess that was something to do with my body shape or my lack of coordination in fast sequences.

Disco party concert with large group of happy dancing people, silhouette of hands up in the air over blur red colorful stage lights, active lifestyle entertainment, music nightclub, night life concept

Once I’d got my place, I was able to take in more about my surroundings. Or the lights came on suddenly. I’m not sure. But suddenly I realised the studio was not at all how I remembered it. I was actually up on a mezzanine. Below that there was something that looked like a dance floor on the lower level. The space was full, a jumble of bodies and waving arms. And in the far corner was a mixing desk where my teacher was installed. It was a weird mix of nightclub, dance venue, and yoga studio. Flashing lights, writhing bodies, pulsing music. An almost ecstatic sensory chaos, of which I was just an onlooker. What was I doing here? I was too old, too uncool — and I was in my undies.

And then I woke up.

Classic anxiety dream.

Kind of ironic that yoga should be the cause of anxiety dreams. Probably says a lot not just about my uncertainty about my yoga practice but also my ambivalence about Hot Yoga. I’m booked onto a class tomorrow. I hope the warmth will help my aching muscles. Better go and pack my shorts and my mat!

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6 thoughts on “My Hot Yoga nightmare

Add yours

  1. Ironic but understandable! Hot yoga can definitely be intimidating- I actually didn’t try it until about four years into my practice. I’m excited to hear how it goes for you- I’m pretty sure you’ll remember your clothes though 😉


  2. It wasn’t even my first time, so I shouldn’t have been so worked up about it. I didn’t actually think I was, but my dream told me differently.

    And class was great, of course!


  3. Nice post, BabyCrow! It didn’t even occur to me that it was a dream. I’ve been having Yoga dreams too lately. Maybe I’ll have to share one as a post on my blog 🙂 Thanks for sharing yours!


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