The 630 muscles in my body have turned to jelly, enough sweat is pouring off my skin to fill Lake Lanier, and my heart, which could earn guest work in a Poe story at this point, is about to explode.
Everyone else is chanting "Ommmmmmm" or "Namaste." But the only mantra racing through my head is four monosyllabic words: Must! Get! To! Door!
The article is in The Emory Wheel but the guy must not have attended our studio which is directly across the street from Emory's Clairmont Campus... we don't chant and our clientele look more like your typical omnivore. The rest of it sounds about right for a first time Bikram Yoga experience but don't worry -- the first class is always the hardest.
When you read it, look carefully the illustration.

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