Finding Stillness: A Shaky, Sweaty Journey

Is it possible to do too much hot yoga? Our intrepid correspondent reports back after practicing it every day for 30 days.

All I wanted was a nice Sunday afternoon with a friend I hadn’t seen in a while. Then I found myself dripping with sweat while holding a downward-facing dog in a dark, inflatable room in South London, thinking, How the hell did I get here?

It all started when I texted a friend to get together, and she suggested a hot yoga class. I am someone who already tends to sweat a lot, even when not exercising. Plus, with the horribly warm British summer we’d been having, I couldn’t think of anything worse. Then she told me the class would be free, so I figured why not.

We signed up for a class called “Nurturing Flow.” It was slower and more meditative than their normal classes, at least according to their website. By the end of class I felt more relaxed than I had in months. I felt free. I wasn’t even that sweaty.

My friend told me this yoga chain was doing a “£30 for 30 days” deal, and I concluded I had no choice but to join.

When I walked into this studio for hot yoga, I was confronted with a large, inflatable pod with heaters inside. I entered this warm, womb-like structure and emerged relaxed and slippery. The playlist they’ve curated pumps a mix of calming sound waves and UK garage music—I felt like I was listening to house music in a slimy basement. It was weird.

Days of Failure, Then Incremental Improvement

The first class was hell. I couldn’t relax at all. It was hard to follow, and I never knew what was coming next. I also couldn’t do half of it, partly from a lack of strength and flexibility and partly because it was just so hot. I was raining sweat. There were a few poses I couldn’t hold because I was too sweaty to grip my skin and hold myself up. But I didn’t leave feeling discouraged. In a strange way, I felt determined.

The next day was a little better. The instructor took more time to breathe and warm up at the beginning, so I was able to relax a bit more. Still, I kept getting confused and falling out of poses. At one point the instructor came over to lightly adjust my hopeless body but still couldn’t make me contort the way all the other strong people were contorting. A defeated, damp lump on the mat, I muttered to myself through gritted teeth, “This would make a great article.”

Hence, an experiment was born. I decided to practice hot yoga every day for 30 days.

The whole first week was spent questioning my mission. On the bus ride to the studio on Day 5, I googled, “Can you do too much hot yoga?” It listed risks from dehydration to heat stroke. Daily hot yoga was not recommended.

Day 6 had me wondering whether I was gaining anything or if I was just exhausting and dehydrating myself an hour a day for funsies.

By Day 11, I started to see tangible evidence of improvement. I was able to balance on one foot without falling over, and I could do a full backbend. On Day 12, the instructor told me she thought I looked strong during the class.

The Day It All Changed

The following week, the pod became less daunting and more comfortable. I wasn’t dreading the first tear of sweat that would drip down my arm; I was embracing it. The only issue was this whole idea of “finding stillness.” I was finding focus, I was finding relaxation, but I didn’t feel still.

On Fridays the studio ran a 45-minute “Hotpod Flow” and then a 45-minute “Rest and Restore” class immediately after. The “Rest and Restore” classes were, as my friend coined them, not-hot not-yoga. They were essentially breathing classes with a couple of rounds of cat/cow chucked in the middle.

Something within me changed after “Rest and Restore.” I had found it: stillness. I had rested so hard while lying there that I felt my blood settle at the bottom of my veins. I’ve never been so still while so awake.

Yoga was different for me after that. It was no longer a ridiculous side mission that I was failing at; it was a central mission I was achieving.

The Daily Benefits of Stillness

The stillness let me lock into the practice in a way I wasn’t able to before. I felt like I was truly flowing through the poses rather than awkwardly jerking one way or another. My mind felt quieter. The never-ending anxiety monologue that played on loop in my head started calming down, some days going away entirely. I felt prouder of myself and more productive day by day.

One day after class I sent a friend a voice note, and she said I even sounded different—that I spoke slower, clearer, softer.

I’m an early-20-something who’s living in her third country in the past four years. It’s been a period of relentless and exhausting change as I finish my final project for a master’s degree and flail around London looking for a flat.

When so much keeps changing, it’s easy to become exhausted, discouraged, and out of control. Sometimes I want to stay inside instead of exploring the city, just to let the four walls around me hold still for a while. My yoga mission has given me a chance to reflect and try something new while still doing the same thing every day. I got to watch myself progress. I got to watch a physical challenge actually pay off.

Maybe all I wanted was a simple afternoon with a friend, but instead I found what I really needed.

Stillness.

• by  Elsie Tierney