Snowga is More Than a Trend. Here’s How It Changed Yoga for Me.

“Please don’t rip.” That was me silently pleading with my new ski pants as I stretched one leg upward from the ice-cold ground in Downward Dog. I brushed the thought aside, focusing instead on keeping my hips square to the mat, when a bark startled me. A labradoodle pranced from student to student, mat to mat, under the amused eyes of his owner and amid laughter from our class.

It was my first snowga session and already I was realizing that one of my takeaways was learning to embrace interruption.

I’m a yoga newbie. I’ve taken a couple of yin yoga classes, mostly in college almost a decade ago, although after going out like a light, tucked under a wool blanket in Savasana, I was too embarrassed to go back. Until this January. The warm glow from a studio’s windows caught my eye as I emerged from my subway stop on a freezing winter evening. One scanned QR code later and I was signed up for my first hot yoga class. Then came power yoga. Then yin yoga (sans a nap this time). I quickly became hooked on reconnecting with my body and tuning out the world’s noise, one moment at a time.

So when I spotted an add for a free snowga class by Pop Spirit, just a few blocks from my home in Montreal, it didn’t matter that I had never considered practicing outside in winter. I signed up anyway.

What I Learned From Practicing Snowga

A few days later, I bundled up and stepped out of my apartment on a 14°F Saturday morning, wandering to a nearby bakery for a coffee and fried chocolate ravioli, as one does when fueling up for their first snowga class.

I arrive at the designated part of the park, according to the map I was sent, and within minutes, 20 people layered up in winter gear and armed with yoga mats, had showed up. We all started chatting (“First time?”), complimenting gear (one person brought a huge waterproof picnic blanket draped over several mats), and giving approving looks (there was more than one giant Stanley thermos). The sense of community I had experienced after a few classes at my studio—the kind that comes from recognizing faces and greeting fellow regulars—set in almost immediately here.

Our teacher, Emie, a Parisian-turned-Montreal-based yoga teacher, began the class by saying, “Don’t worry if you can’t replicate things exactly like indoors. We’re outside, it’s different.” I very much wanted to replicate things that I knew from indoors. I wanted to work on my posture and technique.

Ha.

Snowga’s environment completely changed the game. The snowy ground was uneven, and I couldn’t get my mat to lie flat on the lumpy ground. My balance was challenged in ways it has never been on the flat, smooth wooden floors of my regular indoor studio.

My body also felt uncomfortably restrained as I tried to stretch under a thick sweater, ski pants, and bulky jacket layered on top of my usual yoga outfit. I forgot my sunglasses, so the sun occasionally blinded me while the tip of my nose slowly went numb from the cold. And my glove had a hole and snow had found its way inside.

“Listen to your body and enjoy yourself,” says Emie. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t briefly daydreaming about the warm Himalayan salt lamp glow, freshly-brewed Rooibos Earl Grey, and temperature of my indoor studio. Just for a quick second. I close my eyes and repeat her words to myself like a mantra. Suddenly, I understand she’s right. I just need to go with it. A little snow in my glove and my frigid mat’s creative take on its flat shape don’t matter. What did matter was the sun warming my face, the chirping of birds, the crunch of snow underfoot, the laughter of kids being pulled on sleds not far away, and the hum of the city with its honks and tire screeches. It all came together to form an oddly comforting racket and backdrop to my practice.

Also, unlike many indoor studios, there are no mirrors outdoors, which makes “turning inward,” as Emie says, a bit easier despite everything that’s happening around us. Without constantly checking ourselves, it becomes easier to let go of posture perfection and simply enjoy the moment. I felt at one with my park, my neighborhood, my city, and myself.

Snowga isn’t just taking off in Montreal; it’s gaining momentum around the world. On Instagram, the hashtag #snowyoga reveals a growing community of practitioners embracing slow movement in the cold. Studios across North America, including the Wayzata Public School system in Minnesota and Bohemian Bliss Yoga Studio in Ontario, offer winter snow yoga classes. Guided experiences are also popping up at retreats, resorts, and outdoor clubs in countries including Norway, Iceland, and Sweden, showing that the appeal of snowga stretches far beyond any city. And influencers such as @kristina.flows and @yoga_with_camilla regularly share their outdoor winter practice.

Spending an hour doing yoga outside in the winter has some surprising physical benefits. Sunlight helps your body produce vitamin D, which we get less of during the darker months, and can even ease symptoms of Seasonal Affective Disorder. Exercising in cold temperatures can also boost endurance according to sports medicine physician Adam Tenforde, MD. Studies also show it may help body fat burn stored calories. Also, snowga has an inherently playful side with all the slipping, sliding, and falling. Snowga isn’t just fun, it’s good for your body and mind.

Yet for our instructor, snowga is all about letting go. “Rather than struggling against what we cannot control, snow yoga teaches us to let go of the city’s movements, the weather, and all the things in life we can’t manage,” she explains. “Unlike an indoor studio, where we can control the temperature, lighting, and such.”

Amid the chaos of outdoor sounds, temperatures, and textures, I am able to find peace in embracing the messiness and spontaneity of it all. Everything is so much more alive.

The essence of snowga, according to Emie, is experiencing “a moment where you move your body and move closer to self-acceptance and self-love.” It’s a lesson that we carry with us long after the snow melts.

How to Practice Snowga

If you’re passing through Montreal, Emie will be teaching Saturday classes through March. But you don’t really need a class—you just need yourself and the outdoors. I’d recommend layering several thin base layers that are easy to take off, a slightly loose waterproof jacket to allow unrestricted movement, as well as a pair of sunglasses. And don’t forget to check your gloves for any holes.

• Go outside in the snow, whether in a park or on your balcony, porch, or stoop.
• Sit in Sukhasana (Easy Pose) with open shoulders. Feel yourself grounded and focus on feeling more centered.
• Take a deep breath of the cold air, fully present to your experience.
• Start to move your body intuitively to warm up.
• Slowly add your favorite poses and simply notice how they feel both different and the same.