hot yoga gross jobs

Hot Yoga Classes

Cleaning a yoga studio is gross just like cleaning any gym facilities. But is teaching hot yoga at least as gross? You have to be in the studio with a whole lot of drippingly sweaty people while it’s 115 degrees and so humid it’s getting cloudy inside. Sweating out toxins, farting up a storm, bare feet, unwashed yoga mats, and the sweat of the other classes before. Just being in the room is an assault on the olfactory senses. So yeah, it’s probably super gross for most people and maybe worse to be teaching having to yell over music and breath heavily in the heat.

Whoever wrote the best of craigslist post selling a yoga mat back in 2011 really sold us on how nasty it really can be in a hot yoga class. Some excerpts from that post:

11:45a
Register for hot yoga class. Infinite wisdom tells me to commit to 5 class package and purchase a yoga mat. I pay $89.74. Money well spent, I smugly confirm to myself.

11:55a
Open door to yoga room. A gush of hot dry air rushes through and past me. It smells of breath, sweat and hot. Take spot on floor in back of room next to cute blonde. We will date.

12:40p
The overweight Hispanic man two spots over has sweat running down his legs. At least I think its sweat. He is holding every position and has not had a sip of water since we walked in. He is making me look bad and I hate him.

12:44p
I consider that if anyone in this room farted that we would all certainly perish.

12:52p
It is now 140 degrees and 100% humidity. I am covered from head to toe in sweat. There is not a square millimeter on my body that is not slippery and sweaty. I am so slimy that I feel like a sea lion or a maybe sea eel. Not even a bear trap could hold me. The sweat is stinging my eyeballs and I can no longer see.

12:55p
This room stinks of asparagus, cloves, tuna and tacos. There is no food in the room. I realize that this is an amalgamation of the body odors of 30 people in a 140 degree room for the last 55 minutes. Seriously, enough with the asparagus, ok?

1:20p
It is now 165 degrees and moisture is dripping from the ceiling. The towel that I am laying on is no longer providing any wicking or drying properties. It is actually placing additional sweat on me as I touch it. My towel reeks. I cannot identify the smell but no way can it be from me. Did someone spray some stank on my towel or something?

1:30p
Torture session is over. I wish hateful things upon the instructor. She graciously allows us to stay and ‘cool down’ in the room. It is 175 degrees. Who cools down in 175 degrees? A Komodo Dragon? My wife has left the room. Probably to throw up.

Go read the entire gross saga linked above if you want the whole wild ride, it’s one of the great short stories out there along with They’re Made out of Meat.

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Ewww, a job!