The Infra-Red Sauna

Some thoughts on wellness

I recently joined a new gym. Unlike any gym I’ve been a member of before, the classes are called, “wellness classes”. This made me wonder if we’ve reached a point where everything has to be branded, for us to realise its benefit.

A while ago, my Instagram friend Libby pointed out that once upon a time, “self-care” was known as “leisure” time. Interesting, I thought. Why did we need to rebrand the term? Despite my intrigue in the world of wellbeing since circa 2004, and the days of Zest magazine, I’ve always felt slightly allergic to the term “self-care”.

It’s not that I develop hives at its mention, nor would I pass on the opportunity for 10 minutes of Savasana at the end of a yoga class (the part where you get to lie on your back and rest). It’s just a turn of phrase that doesn’t resonate with me.

After “self-care” began to be associated with bubble baths and candles (nothing wrong with that, by the way), we then had to rethink what we called swimming. That is, if it wasn’t in a chlorinated pool. Hello “wild swimming”.

What’s so wild about swimming in a river, in the sea, or in a lake? Surely, it’s the most natural thing we could do. Who came up with it, and was it for the sole purpose of trying to sell a dry-robe? Or have I become cynical in my middle age?

Side-bar: I consider myself a fully paid-up member of wellness mania having over the past two decades practised countless hours of yoga, trained as a yoga teacher, become a professional certified ICF coach, trained in mental health first aid, mindfulness, resilience, positive psychology and neuroscience, as well as lots of more ‘out there’ modalities. Oh, and I’ve also been a devotee of Matcha Tea since 2014 (thank you, Leigh Linton). You catch my drift. I think this gives me permission to see the comedy in it all.

So, my new gym has an infra-red sauna. It’s like a regular sauna except it’s different. It doesn’t get so hot that it’s claustrophobic, like a regular sauna. And you don’t turn the colour of a beetroot and perspire several litres worth of bodily fluid as you sit in it. It feels more like being in a warm yoga studio, cocooned in a blanket. But there is no blanket. Apparently, it has lots of health benefits. It’s been perplexing me lately, though, why people sit inside the infra-red sauna fully clothed, in their gym gear. I don’t expect anyone to be naked, but surely swimwear would be preferable to receive the benefits of said wellness intervention.

I started to question myself. Maybe, I was misunderstanding the concept of the infra-red sauna, which I’d assumed had something to do with light. Was I overcomplicating things and trying to make it about physics?

So, I did what any normal person would do. I asked Google.

I don’t want to be a know-it-all here, but according to Google, an infra-red sauna operates by using infra-red light to heat your body, ergo, if you cover up your skin with clothes, that light is not going to make contact with your skin, resulting in a reduction in the benefits you experience.

Maybe the sauna people like the feeling akin to being wrapped in a blanket. They might not care about the wellbeing benefits. Or they might know something Google doesn’t know. Maybe it’s their version of self-care.

What doesn’t seem self-caring to me, however, is that these same people take their phones into the sauna.

Yes, you read that right. This seems to me, to be the antithesis of stress reduction and relaxation. But what do I know?? They’re probably listening to the Calm app.

If I’ve got this wrong, you’ll be hearing all about “phone-saunas” and “smartphone wellness” before you know it. It’s all about the rebrand.

Until next time…

p.s. I’m not an affiliate, but in the spirit of connecting good people, you can find @libbystevenson.wellbeing on Instagram, and you can buy your own Matcha Tea from Leigh Linton via this link