I was coaxed into going to Hot Yoga by a hipster friend of mine who convinced me that it was great for detoxing after a “busy” weekend and that I would look pretty cute in the outfit. The outfit was the tipping point.

Let’s be honest here. Explain to me the attraction of spending an hour in a room hotter than a Texas smokehouse while twisting your body into unnatural contortions with about 45 perspiring, smelly people - an assault on almost all of my senses.

What made the experience really memorable is that when I was finished, I looked like a swollen tomato dipped in vegetable oil. Nausea and shaking legs distracted me from the yoga nirvana all the other people seem to have achieved. What’s not to like?

Today’s Tip: Stay away from any class where you have to bring more than 6 towels, a gallon of water and a bucket of sand for traction.

RR