
WILD THING YOGA Brings Tulum to Miami
Aly Barraza recreated Tulum's jungle-sanctuary wellness in Little River's 2,500 sq ft oasis.
Key Highlights
- Space matters: Finally, a Miami studio where you won't accidentally exchange sweat with strangers during Hot Yoga.
- Tulum without the tourist markup: Aesthetic hits without the pretension or the Tulum price tag
The Space
Wild Thing Yoga occupies a corner of Little River that feels like someone bottled the parts of Tulum people actually like and left behind the parts they pretend to enjoy. The studio is properly sized. Not "intimate" (code for cramped). Not "expansive" (code for echoing and cold). Just right.
The unisex changing rooms are huge. The kind of huge where you can actually change clothes without developing a strategic plan first. Mat towels are included, properly non-slip. At the end of class, they hand you cold scented towels. We stayed for those towels. That's usually the test.
The Classes
We rotate through three classes, each with its own particular excellence.
Wild Thing Flow with April Gardner remains our consistent favorite. Gardner teaches with the rare combination of precision and warmth that makes newbies feel capable without making experienced practitioners feel bored.
Occasionally, and this is where it gets interesting, she brings a harmonium. She sings. Live. In the middle of a yoga class. In Miami. It shouldn't work. It works spectacularly.
- Panther Power Flow with Ali Barraza delivers exactly what the name promises. Barraza doesn't waste time with philosophical tangents. The flow is athletic, intentional, and properly challenging.
- Panther Power Sculpt with Sofia Bedard adds weights to the equation. Bedard structures the class so it feels like training, not like someone trying to make yoga into something it isn't. The sculpt element integrates. We appreciate the honesty.
Why It Works
The real differentiator is space. Miami yoga studios have a tendency to pack practitioners in like we're all training for intimacy therapy. Wild Thing gives you room. Actual room. The kind where other people's sweat stays definitively theirs.
This matters more than the aesthetic (though the aesthetic is good). It matters more than the cold towels (though we've already established our stance on the towels). When you're holding crow pose, you want confidence that if you fall, you'll hit your own mat. Wild Thing provides this confidence.
The instruction assumes intelligence without requiring prior expertise. Classes are newbie-friendly in the best sense—clear cueing, options offered without judgment—but the sequencing doesn't get dumbed down to accommodate beginners.
The Economics
Drop-ins run $34. For Miami, for this much space, for instructors who know what they're doing, the math works. We're not discussing the cost of unlimited packages. Some questions are personal.
Who This Is For
Wild Thing suits people who take yoga and wellbeing seriously. If you want space to practice without feeling like you're in a crowded meditation on collective breathing, this is it.
If you've been to enough studios to know the difference between "cozy" and "cramped," you'll notice the distinction immediately. If you think live harmonium during savasana sounds either amazing or crazy (it's amazing), April's classes deliver.
First-timers should know: arrive early enough to claim space in those changing rooms. Bring your own mat if you're particular. The included towels are excellent, but some of us have specific relationships with our props.
The Verdict
Wild Thing Miami solves the personal space problem that plagues Miami yoga while maintaining the warmth that makes group classes worth attending. The instructors teach like they actually practice. The space breathes. The harmonium appearances remain a delightful wildcard.
We return for the Gardner classes. We stay for the Aly Barraza and Sofia Bedard classes. We appreciate that a studio in Little River figured out that sometimes the most spiritual thing you can offer someone is simply enough room to stretch without a territorial dispute.