Hot Hot Yoga

Since May I have been doing hot yoga. It kicks my butt each and every session, but I am totally addicted. I went to a class taught by an incredible yogi named Karyn throughout the summer and fall. I actually saw progress. I could sometimes remember the flow she taught us and execute it. Feeling much more limber was also a plus to the classes. I still couldn’t get into some poses, but I was very happy with my practice.

In November, wearing flip-flops in my house, I tripped over a wrought-iron jeep roof lying on the ground in the basement. I went down fast and the wind was knocked out of me. I thought I broke my toe.

It turned out the toe was not broken, but it was certainly injured (as well as not very pretty). My first thought, “NO! I won’t be able to do yoga!” (yes, that was really my first thought) I could barely get a shoe on for almost two weeks. I certainly couldn’t put any pressure on my toe.

I was OUT of hot yoga.

From experience, I knew that missing classes would mean I would be starting almost from scratch. In the mean-time to stay flexible and on the mat, I did restorative yoga , which I also love and do every winter, thinking it would keep me in the yoga game until I could return to a hot yoga practice.

Eight weeks later I was able to do a down dog, so I knew I could return to hot yoga. Returning to yoga I went to a class which wasn’t my regular class to see how I did. It was hard, but I was able to (mostly) keep up, sweat and feel centered.


I was back.

The following Wednesday I went to my regular hot yoga class. I arrived early and set my mat down then headed out to the gym to warm-up and stretch (call me crazy, it makes me feel better). I returned to class, ready to go and sat down on my mat in the back row (my preferred space) hoping I wasn’t under the heat vent.

Looking up just as Karyn was starting class, my eyes headed to the front of the (small) yoga studio and in my direct line of vision?

A Greek God.

Okay, so not really a Greek God.

Really, it was Dave, the personal trainer that LOOKS like a Greek God.


I’m just getting back, have no balance, can barely keep up and the Greek God of the gym is in class…and in my line of vision?

Yes, this was going to be “hot” hot yoga. Hot, crowded, distracted yoga.

And it was.

I kept my mind on the mat (as much as humanly possible) and flowed through the class, sweating, falling over and just barely breathing. After class I asked my friend Cindy who happened to be next to Dave what that was like. “Oh, I just had to pretend he wasn’t there,” she told me.

Yes, most of our concentration was wobbly that morning.

As I told my friends about this, most laughed (mostly at me and my response). I found out through the grape vine that Dave had heard that when he is in yoga class we are calling it “hot” hot yoga. He didn’t seem too bothered by it. (really?!)

Someone even asked if he took his shirt off. (What ARE these people thinking?!)

“Are you kidding me? There would be 30 women all sitting in lotus the entire class!”

Greek God or not….it’s definitely hot in that yoga class.

For more information:

To train with Dave, the Greek God, who also happens to be a very good sport and all-around nice guy:

This piece was originally written in February of 2016. Yoga Dave still makes hot yoga HOT HOT Yoga.

About Pam Wilson

I've been writing since I can remember. At heart, I am a story-teller; making sense of my world, finding humor and light through writing. Now I help clients to write their own stories. As I continue my own writing journey, my passion is to help clients write their own stories.