Me and My 5 Towels
Apparently not everyone prepares for a sauna the same way
Everywhere I turned, someone was talking about the benefits of saunas. Better sleep, lower stress, reduced inflammation, longevity. Finland was just named the world’s happiest country for the ninth consecutive year and they’ve been sweating in cedar boxes on a daily basis for almost 2000 years. They must be on to something.
Except just like my mom, I’m a seventy degrees and partly sunny kind of gal. I don’t really like hot weather. (I’ve noticed my daughter following suit; hence a winter wedding as opposed to a summer one.) The week or two of 90-degree weather we get here in August is too hot for me. And over 100? I stay inside and start counting the minutes until the temperatures fall and cooler days return.
But a year or so ago, armed with all the benefits a sauna provides, I decided to give it a whirl. Even if I only lasted 5 minutes as opposed to the recommended 20, that would be better than no minutes.
My mom was my north star. She grounded me. I could always set my compass to her no matter where I was in the world.
She was my sounding board for the things I wanted to accomplish. I would spend hours talking to her about all of it. I even officially declared her my “accountability partner” back when I started my photography business. And she was always chiming in with encouraging words of “You can do it, Care!”
And when she was gone, anything outside of showing up for my family and my day job felt like more than I had the bandwidth for.
But reading that note from my younger self, it was almost like she knew I would find it, when I was ready.
Of course, the irony is that my mom was never one to wallow the way I’m prone to. No doubt that years ago, she would have clapped her hands 3 times, given me one of her big smiles, and said, “Time to get off the pity party, Care, and let’s get going!”
So I grabbed 5 towels. Wrapped one around my head to protect my hair, and one around my chest and midsection. One I would lay down on the sauna bench. One I planned to roll into a “log” to support my lower back, and one rolled up for under my knees when my legs were outstretched. Doesn’t everyone use 5 towels?
Well, no, no they don’t.
I pulled open the door to the sauna and the desert-like heat stung my face. I entered all the way in, letting the door close behind me, and immediately felt short of breath as I tried to inhale the 180-degree air. I wasn’t sure I’d make it past a couple minutes.
The sauna was fairly crowded and the only spot left was up on the top bench. So me and my 5 towels carefully made our way up there. I tried not to bump the woman on the lower bench reading her fully opened newspaper and arranged my towel situation without making too much noise.
When I was finally settled with my back against the wall and my legs out in front of me, I glanced over at the “hour glass” timer on the wall to note my start time. Then I turned my attention to the woman directly across from me. She was in her full birthday suit with her back to me and was dry brushing her body. Arms, legs, torso, bottoms of her feet.
Dry brushing was another one of those health trends but I remember thinking, “…in a public sauna?”
I glanced at the timer on the wall noting that a couple minutes had passed. I closed my eyes and tried not to concentrate on the woman brushing her skin.
Maybe another minute went by when I felt the bench underneath me quiver and then give a big heave. I felt a swish of air near my feet. I opened my eyes to see that the woman had set aside her dry brushing, was lying on her back, and was now doing what one can only call calisthenics…in the sauna.
I felt beads of sweat forming at my temples and the hot salty drips stung my skin as they traveled down my cheeks. My heart started beating harder. I wished I had water and somewhere else to look. No one else seemed remotely bothered by the shenanigans happening on the upper bench.
Then out of nowhere, this woman, who had made the sauna her personal yoga studio, went “toes over head” until they were resting on the bench just inches from my toes and the whole movement ended with…the full monty staring right at me.
Nope. Nope. This was not going to work out for me and my 5 towels. I wiped the sweat off my face and chest, gathered up my terry cloth supplies, made note that I had been in there for 5 minutes, and exited into the cooler air.
I shook my head as I walked toward the showers and tried not to let my face settle into my granny’s disapproving expression that I feared I was inheriting. Sitting in that heat was already hard enough without the “calisthenics” going on. I wasn’t sure that this was going to be the health hack I was hoping for. And yet, as I rinsed off, I had to admit that I felt a bit more…lively. More energetic.
I kept going back. Over the next few months, I went from 5 minutes to 10. 10 to 15. The newspaper lady was usually there. The calisthenics woman occasionally, although never with as extensive a routine as that first time.
Finally the day came when I told myself I had to stay in there for the full 20 minutes. At 15 minutes, salty sweat poured down my face, my chest, my back. I wasn’t sure if I could make the additional five. I left my towel sanctuary and stood up near the door quietly pacing. It was just me and the newspaper lady.
“I’m sorry if I’m bothering you. I’m trying to make it to 20 minutes and it won’t happen if I don’t stand up and walk it out.”
From underneath the small towel she had draped over her head, she looked up at me for a beat and without a smile replied, “Yeah, I’ve noticed you’ve been staying in here longer and longer.”
And then she went back to her newspaper.
I’ve kept up with the sauna. It’s now my favorite part of going to the gym. The last five minutes are still a challenge but in some ways, I like that. My mind has to keep me in there when my body is so uncomfortable.
Every once in a while I have the place to myself but usually there are other people with me. Some with multiple towels. Some with none. Some with a newspaper. Some with closed eyes.
And there’s something comforting about all of us sitting in that heat together, enduring it in our own separate ways. When the ambiance isn’t ideal. When there’s a lot of commotion going on. When most of us are simply sweating, focused on lasting as long as we can.
And maybe that’s all growth really is sometimes…just trying to stay in the room a little longer than we could before.
Cheers,
Carrie