I thought all blokes who did yoga were naval-gazing millennials, but now I'm a midlife convert

Telegraph

3 days ago

It's easy to be suspicious of men who do yoga. I think it's the Lycra. Or the fact that most of them are younger than me, more handsome, probably vegan and with ridiculous flexibility. Say, 'man who does yoga', and I picture curly brown hair and tight buns on the only man in a room full of women struggling to get a whiff of his aftershave – add good looks and impossible abs. So as a rule, I generally give yoga a wide berth.
The closest I've come is a couple of sessions while on holiday in Goa, India, which seemed idyllic under a palm tree (but even then, disconcertingly hard work – how can something so slow be so… painful?). I tried to repeat the experience in north London, but it wasn't the same – the room was just full of smugness. I felt about as graceful as a drunk man on ice skates, and oh my goodness, did it hurt the next day. And yes, I felt judged by the others in the room who seemed capable of kissing their own derriere while I struggled to touch my toes.
So, when the chance came up to have a few hot yoga trial sessions, I leapt at the idea with the words, 'Really? Do I have to?' And 'I don't care what the photographer says, there's no way I'm wearing yoga pants.'
A few recent studies show that yoga conducted in a hot room can have strong health benefits for those of us who will never see 59 again. The clever people at Harvard Medical School found it reduced depressive symptoms by at least 50 per cent. Other studies by the American Heart Association show it increases cardiovascular health by improving blood circulation, reducing blood pressure and improving heart function.
The Journal of Strength and Conditioning Research found that after eight weeks, hot yoga participants had better flexibility in their shoulders, lower back and hamstrings. No surprise there.
Nick Potter, a consultant osteopath at King Edward VII hospital in London, says, 'For people over 50 who sit all day, hot yoga can be a game-changer. It stretches muscles, stimulates circulation and resets posture.'
If I'm honest, a small part of me was pleased to have the excuse to try it out. After navigating the midlife reset (I have given up smoking, gave up drinking for five years, and took up hiking and weekly weight training) as I hit 60 this year, it seemed a lifetime of sitting at a keyboard had left me with the tight hips of someone 20 years older.
This manifests itself in what my trainer would call 'a soreness in the glutes', but what the rest of us would more prosaically refer to as a near-constant 'pain in the bum'. So maybe, god forbid, a spot of yoga with the smug boys might be the way ahead.
'You're only as old as your muscle mass,' says Potter. 'Ageing is not inevitable – it's often just disuse.'
So, a week later I'm standing in the unlikely surroundings of an industrial unit on the edge of Eastbourne, East Sussex, surrounded by something that looks like a set from Doctor Who. Imagine a kids' bouncy castle, indoors, with the roof and walls made of silky black material and fans blowing hot air to a soundtrack of chilled beats.
The instructor for my first one-to-one session is Lizzy Jarvis, the owner of Hotpod Yoga Eastbourne, one of 60 Hotpod sites in the UK. She guides me through a soothing gentle flow of movements.
She's deliberately demonstrating the moves as if she too has spent the past 40 years sitting at a laptop, which is very considerate of her. I know her forehead can probably touch the floor even when she's standing on a chair but, teaching me, she keeps saying reassuring things like 'it's not about pushing'. I like this. And it is warm, which is nice, but not too hot – I barely even break a sweat.
The floor is cushioned but not enough to make balancing on one foot trickier than normal, and, as Jarvis says, 'Just being in the warm enclosed space of the pod helps your worries drop away.' It's true, the enveloping nature of the space is womb-like and feels nurturing.
Hot yoga means the room is heated to body temperature (37C) and includes different poses, depending on the instructor. (This is not to be confused with Bikram yoga, which is done at 40C and is much more rigid in its series of postures.)
We finish up with some meditation and I think, 'Gosh, it would be so easy to fall asleep in here.'
With all the restraint of an addictive personality, I book myself in to do a group class two hours later. Nurturing Flow, it's called. You might say that was foolish for a man of 60 who has spent 40 years sitting at a desk.
As I wait, I'm somewhat surprised that I'm not hurting – yet.
Kate Taylor is an expert in sports rehabilitation and injury prevention who has worked with the England rugby team. She points out that it's not just females that need to protect their bones as they age – men also do – and that, as well as flexibility, hot yoga can increase bone density.
'Holding poses applies force to the muscle, which transmits onto the bone via the tendon,' she says. This puts stress on your bones, stimulating 'remodelling' and increasing bone mineral density.
Nick Higgins, co-founder of Hotpod Yoga, is, as you'd expect, an evangelist for the healing powers of this bouncy castle. 'Hot yoga softens your body, steadies your breath and clears your mind – it's therapy on all levels,' he says. And it's true, I went into my first session stressed and now feel like I'm floating towards the next one.
'Every day I practise, I feel like a better person,' he says. 'It calms me, and the heat improves blood flow into joints and tissues – it's like soft strength work, ideal for older bodies because, at 37C, you're practising at body temperature. It's warm enough to loosen muscles but not overwhelming.'
As my classmates gather, I notice there is another man here (dressed quite sensibly, no Lycra). He is an intensive care nurse with the most glorious name, Simon Angel. He's here with his wife, Jimena, also an intensive care nurse – and the Angels both look at least 10 years younger than the 50-something they are.
The session itself is more demanding than my introduction, and the sweat starts to flow – but inside the pod I feel wonderfully unjudged – and one of the other class participants even says afterwards how flexible I seem. Reader, I laughed. If it is remotely true, then the earlier session must have loosened my muscles, and the heat makes the stretches, dare I say it, pleasurable rather than the expected ordeal.
'We work a stressful job, emotionally and physically,' say the Angels afterwards. 'And in the pod, all of this drops away.'
It's true – I drifted through the rest of my day on a lilo of endorphins and then woke up the next morning fizzing with energy. This was when I interviewed Higgins, and I must have sounded as enthusiastic as a freshly minted member of a hot yoga cult.
It has to be said that later the next day I hit a wall of tiredness like a wet duvet falling from a church tower. Then my back started to ache and I was forced to admit that two sessions in one day, for a hot yoga virgin, might have been a tad ambitious. But after an evening confined to quarters, a couple of ibuprofen and a stupendous night's sleep, I was fit enough for my regular training session with weights the next day.
So, will I be doing hot yoga again? Without a doubt. I've felt amazing all week and, as Potter says, 'Hot yoga is most effective when paired with resistance training – together they protect bone, muscle and cognition – because doing varied, unfamiliar movements builds new neural pathways. That's what keeps the brain young – not sudoku.'
As I push towards my free bus pass, I never really saw myself as the sudoku type. Perhaps I have found my new, very warm home.
Martin wears yoga shorts by BAM