It happened.

(Read: I did it I did it I did it!)

Last night, I completed my first back-to-back Bikram yoga double. Cue triumphant trance music and wild hands-in-the-air dancing! (Go on; you know you want to.)

I must say, it was pretty extreme… but also surprisingly doable. I made it through the first class no problem, focusing on it in my mind as an extended warm-up. My favorite teacher helped make the 90 minutes a chance to feel empowered, strong and totally resilient. She always does a lovely job of reminding all of us yogis that there’s “a great group energy in the room” and she pumps us up and pushes us hard all the way until we’ve twisted our spines like pearl necklaces, and blown out every birthday candle that’s 60 feet in front of us.

Anyway, as I lay in final savasana and joyfully relaxed every muscle and listened to the instructor announce, “You did it! You made it. Now let it go,” I quickly thought to myself Not so fast! Only halfway there. And you got this.

And as it turns out, I did. After a quick freshening up – a costume change, downing a VitaCoco and protein-charged granola bar, refilling the water bottle, grabbing a soft and clean towel, and sending a “one down, one to go! I feel great” text to the beau – I was back on the mat, ready to go.

It was awesome: as I stood there on my mat, re-engaging in my usual pre-Bikram warm-up, I could feel this bright, pure sense of relaxation wash over me. The heat of the room felt so comforting, like being wrapped up in a cozy blanket and fuzzy slippers in front of a fireplace and watching the snow fall outside, the whole earth held in a supple, perfect hush.

Here I was in class #2, my body in a perfect calm. No nerves. No pre-class fear or anticipation. No stress.

No nothing, just me and the mirror. All of a sudden I am nowhere except right here:

It was the best feeling in the hot room I’ve ever experienced. And then it got better.

So another of my favorite teachers comes striding in to start class (Special bonus: two teachers in one night! Usually they’ll teach back-to-back classes, but I lucked out and got a mix. Yoga gods on my side for sure!).

“So this is Bikram’s beginning yoga class. Hands and feet at the center of your mats and towels. Stay in the room for 90 minutes…”

Here I am, standing at the center of the universe, and I’m not even hearing these words. I just am them.

Ah, thiiiis is that increased focus I’ve been reading out, I realize as we launch into pranayama.

And my body’s not the same, either: the lungs move open and close like deep, soft, elastic balloons. The belly swells and falls with the lightness of a butterfly’s wings touching. There is no usual tension or stiffness, no cumbersome battle to overcome the breath, only a body that floats – simple, wholesome, like velvety steam rising from water.

The spine is brand new.

I descend into half moon like it’s a deep, cool body of water. Each fiber and system is blurred beneath the hazy surface. I drift and flow. I am my own breath. Padahastasana comes and goes like a quiet wave.

“Alright, time for the first back bend. Don’t be scared, drop your head back, let it go, let it hang, look for the wall behind you…”

Generally at this point in the practice I am resisting the dialogue, holding something back. I am busy thinking about the outside world or shaking off the sweat. I am elsewhere.

Not here, not today. In this second class of wonder and delight, I am in the backbend.

I have let go of my resistance and this allows the posture to take hold of me. The lower half of my back becomes a flower petal blooming.

I am the flower petal blooming!

And I descend down farther toward the floor than I ever have – my dive smooth and effortless, like I’ve always been meant to be here. I can feel my spine lengthening, stretching wonder of wonders, and I see my mat coming into focus before my eyes.

I feel so good. I am on top of the world. I am a Bikram warrior, one step closer to my dreams of extreme flexibility held within pure relaxation.

The rest of class flies by as I rock standing series, chill through the floor sequence, and finish out strong. It’s all downhill after that initial backbend, although all along the way I keep wondering if there will be any other significant breakthroughs. The rest of the meditation is pretty standard as far as form goes, but my concentration and motivation are off the charts!

I walk out of the studio feeling pretty proud of myself and actually shiver a little bit at the icy blast of air conditioning. After all that time in the heat, I was beginning to enjoy the cozy atmosphere. And as weird as it sounds, when I finished the second class I actually experienced a sensation along the lines of: I could keep doing this yoga all night long and it would feel great! How true that is, no one actually knows (I mean, I was also pooped and perfectly ready to head home for a shower and bite to eat!), but it was a pretty inspiring moment.

Oh, and perhaps the most inspiring moment followed soon after:

I pack up and start to stroll out the studio door, basking in my toxin-free yoga glow, little shy grins eeking out the corners of my mouth. And expert yogi teacher of class #2 who got me through the beautiful hot mess that was my double turns to me with a big, fat smile, two thumbs up, and loudly proclaims:

“That was hard-core! Two classes back to back, nice. You’re lookin’ good in there!”

My eyebrows go up in surprise, my cheeks flush, and I make small talk as a feeling of satisfaction fills my belly. I mutter joyfully about the backbend release, tripping over my words a bit as I try to concentrate on anything but the fact that one of the most bad-ass yoga teachers at my studio just called me hard-core.

He wishes me a restful night, and I buzz my way out into the night air, little hop-skips entering my steps.

I’m beaming.