And then there's languishing in a pool of sweat with 15 other people desperately trying to stop being sick as you balance on one leg.
I haven't done much (any) yoga. But I imagine this to be the Tony Montana of yoga. The bad boy of spiritual sport. This is Bikram Yoga.
A full 90 minutes stuffed into a 42C heat room stretching your limbs, your neck, your toes and even your colon, we were told.
And, yes, we chose to do it.
A colleague and I took the massive leap from looking at a leaflet and imagining what it would be like to be as healthy and annoying as Gwyneth Paltrow to actually going to the studio in Glasgow's Byres Road and handing over our shoes and money.
It's all about the bare feet in yoga. And it definitely all seems a bit naked to start with. We're not in a European sauna, although it's hot enough to be one.
Everyone is wearing tiny shorts and sports bras (no tops for the men, mind.)
Suddenly leggings and a gym vest top - a Fleetwood Mac tank top in my friend's case - feels overdressed.
Not to worry, we think. Our giddiness has surpassed our fear and we're already in the "chill out area" with our rented mats, two towels, gigantic water bottles and hair piled on our heads.
Entering the studio feels like we've landed in Turkey's midday sun. Where's the swimming pool, though? And the mojitos?
Oh, this is exercise.
Our charming Mexican teacher is now chatting away to us all.
Unlike other gym classes, like spin or aerobics, the instructor doesn't instruct, she stands and talks you through it all.
I am especially fond of the moments she tells you how amazing you are and how great life is.
There are 26 postures in total, from the half moon to the awkward (story of my life) pose.
There's also a corpse pose...which rings true a short time into the class when I turn to my right and find that my friend is dead.
No, wait, she's alive. She had a fainting episode, she tells me later.
It's nearing the end of the class. I know this because our teacher has opened the windows.
Air! That windy and wet Glasgow atmosphere has never been so welcome.
We are encouraged to lie on our soaking towels for ages as sweat droplets fall off our bodies, which gives you a chance to figure out how you're meant to get on the subway looking like a drenched scarecrow.
After, we feel energised and quickly realise the others are in the class were right: this is addictive. I already feel more bendy and chuffed with my life.
And there's something nice about padding about in bare feet.
Makes you feel like you're in your own home.
If you lived inside a volcano in middle earth.