Two and a half years ago, my orthopedic doctor told me I couldn’t do any practice for six months where I have to put weight on my head or hands. This is because my body had taken some abuse over the years. I managed to tear my upper back from teaching and practicing inversions in Vinyasa classes, and my SI join was permanently misaligned since a doctor popped it with forceps delivering my second child. Apparently, he just stitched me up without mentioning that my tailbone had dislodged. Fast forward 20 years. Compounded by two decades of a cardio junkie lifestyle, I was left with problems in my feet, knees, and hips. Basically, I was a mess.
Then I discovered a way to satisfy my body’s need for healing: Bikram Yoga. My first Bikram class was a rude awakening to all the challenges I had created in my body through my own ignorance. Granted, there were no handstands or planks, but at this point I couldn't even bear weight on my right hand to turn around and lay down for sivasana. My tendinitis was so severe that I always felt a sharp pain behind my elbow when pulling my feet back for upward bow.
I did not love the humbling experience of my first Bikram yoga class. But I was relieved that I could do something that let me feel my body. So I went back by default. I can't remember the exact time when I started enjoying the practice, but I did. In fact, I started to love it. Two years later, I can honestly say my spine is healed and my tendinitis is gone. I'm a believer. So much so, that I wanted to meet Bikram and do business with him.
This week, I got that chance. I was invited to meet with Bikram at his International Headquarters in California. When I walked into his offices, he was just finishing class with Emmy Cleaves, a senior teacher and Holocaust survivor. I was immediately drawn to Bikram's sincerity. It's not every day that you meet a teacher of his stature who practices with his students. He quickly cleaned up and led me upstairs to his private office. I started the meeting by telling him that this was the first plane trip in 20 years where my back didn't hurt walking off the plane and I had him to thank. He told me stories of people that had come to him in far worse shape than I. He had helped them all. At the end of the meeting where we discussed potential yoga vacations in faraway places, he insisted that I join him at his 5 p.m. class with his teachers in training. Maybe this was his way of checking my sincerity.
I walked into the hotel lobby and could feel the heat emanating from the 2nd floor ballroom. My nervousness heightened after I saw hundreds of flip-flops and t-shirts spread about the entrance. In the ballroom stood what looked like several 747 engines pumping heat. What a bizarre sight! 500 yoga bodies, mirrors everywhere, an elevated couch (throne?) in the front of the room, and yet it was still ornamented with the chandeliers and molding of a typical ballroom.
Even after acclimating to the odd scenery, I still struggled with the intensity of the practice and heat. Forget seeing yourself in a mirror, I was in the back row with the senior teachers and the heaters right behind me. Some said the room was hovering at 120 degrees! My water didn’t stay cold very long. Initially taking sips from it, I began pouring it over my head to survive the 90 minutes.
I survived, never left the room or skipped a posture, but it felt like my first class all over again.
I am in awe of everyone in that room who has spent the past two months training twice a day with workshops in between. They basically leave their life behind and come back as Bikram warriors. I went back to Bikram Detroit with a renewed respect for my teachers, the healing possibilities of the practice, and the man they call “The Boss.”
