The heat of the moment

Those who know my wife understand that she's always on the lookout for the newest thing in alternative medicine, eating and exercise. As a writer I often expound on her forays into organic eating (seaweed and goat cheese), psychic readings (tarot cards and fairies), naturopaths (acupuncture and dandelion root), massage therapy (incense and oils) and many other adventures (colon cleanses and vortexes). My wife participates in these activities as a quest for inner peace, ultimate health and enlightenment. I join in for column material and because I don't like to be left out of anything.

And that is why I am now doing yoga in a hot, 105-degree room. Known as Hot Box Yoga, or Hot Sweaty Yoga, or I'm Going to Pass Out Yoga, it's part of the Bikrim tradition where for 90 minutes yogis perform various postures in a heated studio - sort of like stretching in a sauna but you get to wear more than just a towel - barely.

One Yoga studio's website describes Bikrim like this: "This extreme temperature warms and helps relax the muscles and causes excessive sweating, which followers claim flushes toxins from the body." I can't say for sure that I am releasing toxins when I participate, but I can confirm that hot, sweaty yoga makes my underwear stick to my butt like cellophane. I've also learned it's important not to wear white. I still remember my first class last fall. My wife asked if I wanted to do hot yoga and I said sure thinking it was yoga with super models. Little did I know that the only panting I'd be doing was due to dehydration. In the first five minutes I was literally a sweaty mess. And not just because the room was Africa hot. Believe it or not, standing on your tippy toes and at the same time sitting down on an invisible chair can also make you sweat and want to scream. "Scream and Sweat" -that's what I call my yoga studio.

I am told these yoga poses ultimately make participants more relaxed in their lives. I am also told that the CIA uses these same relaxation techniques when trying to pry information from their prisoners. There are customs to know before joining a hot sweaty yoga program. During a class, for example, participants are asked not to talk so that others can stay focused on their practice. Of course, I think the real reason behind the rule is to keep husbands from turning to their wives and saying: "Thanks for bringing me, honey - I've always wanted an exercise program that makes me feel like throwing up." I have now completed 15 Bikrim classes and, I hate to admit it, but I am feeling more relaxed, more flexible, and less nauseas.

I'm not ready to bend like a pretzel or anything, but I have stopped taking Dramamine before each class. I am also excited to find out what the next holistic experience my wife has planned for us. Maybe we'll try Buddhism or nudism or scratching our eyes out with sharp animal totems. Regardless, I bet it will be relaxing.