Hot and sweaty

Every now and then the thought flashes through my mind that one injury or accident could scupper this whole book thing. Me going to Kenya to watch the Kenyans running just isn’t as exciting. A couple of times recently I’ve nearly gone head over heels and have just managed to save myself. Each time my entire career passes before my eyes. So I’m trying to be safe, as much as I can. But all the running I’m doing also carries the risk of injury. According to Runner’s World magazine, 66% of runners got injured last year. That’s a lot. I can’t afford to be one of them. But I have a secret weapon. Yoga.

Now I know stretching is apparently over-rated, but the yoga I do – Bikram yoga – is as much about strength as flexibility. I started doing it about ten years ago after failing to shake a persistent knee injury. Someone told me that the originator of this particular yoga, Choudhury Bikram, devised it after hurting his knee in a weightlifting accident. So I tried it and my knee got better. It was a miracle. (Call the pope!) Ever since then I’ve been doing it once in a while. I really hate it, and I never get any more flexible, but I know it’s good for me. You come out of the class feeling as though you've been ironed. All the little creaks and aches are gone.

I went to Bikram tonight, in Old Street, London. It’s a strange place. Unlike the jolly banter of a running club, at Bikram everyone is extremely serious. People rarely talk or even risk eye contact. When someone does say something, I’m always surprised. It’s like they’ve bravely broken the pious spell that hangs over the place. For a few seconds people start talking. The odd joke gets muttered. There’s even a smile or two. But then the eerie silence descends again, and we move around without talking, slipping on our shoes, checking our phones, zipping on our coats and heading off without saying goodbye.

The most striking thing about Bikram yoga is the intense heat. The room is always heated to 106F. You’re sweating just sitting waiting to begin. The class attracts a lot of beautiful people who obviously love their bodies – you can see them admiring themselves, as they limber up, in the huge mirror along the front wall – and because of the heat, people don't wear many clothes. At the start of the class it can be hard to keep your eyes to yourself. By the end, however, everyone looks terrible. Red faces, dripping with sweat and exhaustion.

The heat was so intense tonight that water was literally pouring off me like Robert Hays in the landing scene in Airplane. The room was really beginning to stink and you could see why Bikram apparently calls his yoga studio his torture chamber.

It’s not all pain, though. A couple of the postures are quite amazing in the way they make your head feel light, as though you’ve just inhaled some drug. The teacher always points out how fast your heart is beating – pounding like crazy – while your breath is still slow and calm. It’s true. How does that work?

I was so spaced out after tonight’s class that on the way home I went in to a shop to buy some food, took my iPod out of my bag, and left it on the counter. Luckily when I rang the shop up later, they still had it.

Yoga: good for preventing injuries, but can leave the mind befuddled.