I am a classically trained dancer with a ferocious love of good bass. I am a health and wellness writer and yoga teacher from the Iyengar lineage. I have practiced Ashtanga yoga in the Mysore tradition and am a self-professed seeker. A purist, a tattoo-contemplator, a hot-dog sneakin’-vegan and a little righteous about pulling yourself out of the abyss and here are some things I’ll admit:

In 2009, I survived my first marathon in 5+ hours. (3 more followed. much better time – I do have some pride.)

I love a good back.

I never go anywhere without this:

I ALWAYS blame farts on other people.

I love these two:

Here’s what I am embarrassed about:

My name is Clair and I LOVE BIKRAM YOGA.

My rock star yoga friends who worship at the table of the un-hot room may not ever speak to me again but I am who I am. When I travel I find a Bikram studio in most cities I visit. Like Starbuck’s, I know what to expect and it’s the same everywhere. Every. Single. Time. I need that. I like the focus the mental tenacity the endurance required to stay in a room heated to 107 degrees for 90 minutes. I like it when the instructor says ‘nice work Clair’ when I do this:

To some, hot yoga is cheating, cheesy, impure, a fad and some of the gurus are sex maniacs. But that’s not my experience. Mine supports my affinity for endurance sports.

Jennifer Aniston swears by it.

I’ll still keep this little secret quiet when I visit or teach where Bikram is a bad word.

But I won’t lie. Ask me if I like Bikram and I’ll say:

“I love the yoga.”

“But, I did not fart.” (I have my limits.)