10 years ago today, I wandered into a Bikram yoga studio in lower Manhattan feeling betrayed, heartbroken, anxious, and lost. I remember every detail of that first class: the view of the Flatiron building across the street, the woefully unabsorbent fabric of my outfit, the name of the kind student to my right (Hilary, and I never saw her again) who graciously demonstrated anything I didn’t immediately understand. I emerged from my first hot yoga class drenched and exhausted,