keep the change

When I walked into my Bikram yoga class this past Sunday morning around 8:35 or so, I was expecting the room to be three-quarters full of yogis stretching and getting ready for the workout. Instead, the room was maybe half full, and standing in my usual back row, semi-hot corner spot by the door was a man.

Now, Bikram yoga is open to all and everybody is encouraged to try it- but please let me describe this man for you. He was middle-aged- about 55 to 60 years old. What did he look like? I think the best way to describe him is by using food.

Imagine if you will- a marshmallow. Like a big, puffy, roast-it-over-the-campfire-and-make-a-s’more-with-it kind of marshmallow. Now, take a toothpick, break it in half and stick both pieces into the sides to represent short and unproportionally skinny arms. Break another toothpick in half for equally short and skinny legs. Now attach a red jellybean on top for the head, scribble on a goatee and that is, generally, what this man looked like.

I was a little confused as to how he ended up in a Bikram yoga studio, until I learned that the older blonde on the other side of him was his wife who had just started practicing Bikram yoga a week ago and dragged him to class “just to try it.”

While I support anybody trying Bikram, here’s the thing: when you see a very large man in a cutoff Budweiser shirt who can barely touch his toes in a room that will reach 105 degrees with 40 percent humidity, you just know that it’s gonna end badly.

And, sure enough, for almost an hour, I watched as this man struggled and cursed his way through the 13 pose standing series. He couldn’t hold any of the poses for more than 10 seconds without his face literally turning beet red and, as the poses progressed, the look of disbelief on his face just became more apparent and exaggerated. When our instructor cranked my calf up above the back of my head during bow-pulling pose, he looked like he was about to have a coronary just from watching me.

And though I had to leave early, I saw a look of terror take over his features as the floor series, or “the real yoga,” started. The last thing I heard him say as I left? “What the hell did we just do then?!”

Now, I’m not saying that Bikram yoga is easy for a first-timer- I literally left in tears after my first class and couldn’t understand what I had just put myself through.

However, I felt such an immediate change within myself after my first class that I forced myself to go the next day, and the day after that and the day after that… before I knew it, I had gone 32 days in a row. Now, I need to go to yoga or I felt gross and lazy.

I usually don’t accept change very well. I’m stubborn and I like having a general routine. Yet this was a change that needed to be made, as much as I hated it at first.

This may sound judgmental: during yoga, our instructor said that some poses create a “mini heart attack” that will help prevent the big one. For the man standing next to me, that mini heart attack may have come too late.

I believe change is and never will be easy. But with so many happening in my life right now, I can only use my past experiences to remind me that, while vexing now, this too shall pass.

And while I wish him the best, I am not expecting that man to ever step into a Bikram studio. Ever. Again.