The no-om zone -- yoga for winners

FEEL THAT restorative energy coming from downtown L.A. this weekend? It’s not another real estate development project. It’s the sacred sway of the third annual Yoga Expo, a convention encompassing many forms of yoga and featuring a competition: the International Yoga Asana Championship, a.k.a. the Bishnu Ghosh Cup.

I know what a lot of you are thinking: gauche, indeed! Yes, there is something rather un-om-like about performing a series of asanas ( postures, for all you philistines) and being judged on “proportion of the body” and “steadiness of execution,” not to mention “dress, style and grace.” But anyone who thinks that yoga is noncompetitive is living in a dream world (or possibly on the east side of L.A.). After all, what is it if not a daily or weekly chance to compare our bodies, attire and style of sticky mat with those of people who might have a nicer car than we do but can’t hold a crow pose worth jack?

I know, I know. I’ve got some toxic chi running through me. I can feel, at this very moment, the mystical force of all you traditional yogis running to your computers to tell me I don’t get it and how, furthermore, the Yoga Asana Championship, organized by the controversial Bikram’s Yoga College of India (headquartered right here on La Cienega Boulevard), is a karmic travesty.

Bikram yoga, which is practiced in 105-degree heat and involves 26 postures performed in the exact same order in every class (and in front of a mirror!) is sometimes regarded as antithetical to traditional yoga. Its founder, Bikram Choudhury, has spent a fortune in legal fees franchising his studios and attempting to copyright the postures. Hardly an ascetic swami, he’s known for his fleet of Rolls-Royces, the gold watch he wears with his Speedo when he teaches class and a pedagogical style that involves sitting on a throne and hurling insults at students.

As opposed as I am to Speedos on anyone other than Olympic swimmers, I must admit that of all the forms of yoga I dabble in, Bikram is my favorite. Granted, it’s monotonous, smelly and tends to offer unwelcome views of people’s cellulite and back hair. But there’s something about perspiring with strangers to the point of total saturation that makes you feel connected to the universe in a way that gentler yoga just doesn’t.

You know how feeling dizzy or nauseous can often be a lonely, alienating experience? Not in Bikram, where nearly everyone feels sick and some even faint or throw up! To see the vulnerable pallor of queasiness on a classmate’s face as she runs frantically for the bathroom (or, once in my case, the flower bed outside the studio) is to glimpse humanity in its purest form. To see someone doing this in a thong is even more intense, if perhaps redundant.

So I actually enjoy Bikram. But as shows like “American Idol,” “The Swan” and “The Bachelor” teach us, things that are merely enjoyed -- like singing, looking your best, falling in love (and doing yoga) -- are piteously wasted. You have to make them into contests.

I first heard about the Bishnu Ghosh Cup (Bishnu Ghosh, incidentally, was Choudhury’s guru) in class last week, when our lovely and insult-free instructor praised us by saying that our standing Dhanurasanas (that’s when you kick your leg back and pull it over your head) looked so good that we should enter the competition. I didn’t take it to heart at first because that happens to be a posture over which I have as much mastery as the bagpipes, but it did get me thinking about as-yet-unexplored areas of yogic competition, some of which might prove even tougher than the standing Dhanurasana.

How about a prize for finding a parking space near the studio, turning off your cellphone or remembering to use deodorant? These may seem like yoga compulsories, but many a would-be champion has fallen during these preliminary events, and I know for a fact that personal hygiene isn’t exactly a dharma among some yogis.

How about a competition that tests your ability to get through class when you aren’t in the mood to be there and there is not one sexually attractive person on whom to focus for the whole tedious 90 minutes? How about a no-eye-contact-in-the-changing-room challenge? How about an endurance event measuring the length of time during which a student can maintain a conversation with an instructor about the “master cleanse fast”?

Yoga is all about pushing past your perceived limitations, opening yourself up to new possibilities and compassionately accepting the world around you. That’s why competitive yoga is essential. As someone whose ananda (that means “eternal joy,” for all you uninitiated plebes) is dependent on winning, even if it means stepping over the drenched, passed-out body of the person next to me, I see the third annual International Yoga Asana Championship as an important step toward world peace -- and maybe even eventually an explosion in deodorant sales. Let’s kick some self-realization ass.