Bikram Post Script


Walking into the yoga studio yesterday, I glanced around the room and tried to decide where to put my mat and towel. Not too close to the mirror and not in the back corner so as to seem unsocial. I settled for the middle.

I rolled my mat out, draped my towel over it (sweat catcher), sat down and glanced around the room.

Some young girls were positioned close to the mirror, a middle-aged woman was next to me and there was a naked man laying face-down on his mat next to me. With a closer look, it was clear he wasn’t totally naked. Just dressed in skin-tight cream coloured spandex short athletic shorts. With no shirt on.

I am sure you can understand my confusion.

Anyways, the class started, we started doing breathing exercises and began the first few moves. I was watching my poses in the mirror when my gaze swept sideways for a second.

Full-on sweaty package in plain sight reflected in mirror.

Every detail outlined.
Holy mother.
Not what I want to see in yoga class.

But he was so earnest.

And as the class progressed, we all got sweatier and sweatier and his spandex defined more and more.

The class went on, I forgot about it but remembered as soon as the class was over and my neighbour in his practically see-through spandex picked up his mat and headed out of the studio.

Note to self: cream-coloured spandex not a good choice for any exercise at all


Filed under holy mother, spandex, yoga

3 responses to “Bikram Post Script

  1. Saanich Peninsula Pipe Band

    Roger that!

  2. Melissa

    Dude, I’ve actually seen pink (i.e., lady) bits in yoga. Loose short-shorts + no underpants = loose junk nightmare.

    Bikram and I had a very brief affair.

    Pardon the pun.

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