I got dragged to my first yoga class about 10 years ago. It was 6am and I was ‘helping’ a friend through some troubled times. She thought yoga may be the answer. The instructor was Phil at Virgin Active. I laughed my way into the day and fell in love with yoga.
I still have no idea which pose is an Asanas, although I do know the downward dog and I have never aspired to conquering the Sirsasana (headstand). But I recently joined a class with Nikki a lovely yogi who dabs us with essential oils during the class. She says things like, ‘if you can’t do this, smile and do this instead’. It’s rejuvenating and invigorating. It’s hard not to be fabulous when you’re feeling bendy and twisty. (I’ve learned to avoid the mirror, because I’m not half as bendy or twisty as I think I am!)
Yoga is for granola types. Yoga is for the spiritually aware. Yoga is a select club. Wrong, wrong and wrong again. I’m not good with snobbery. I’m never going to be a guru. I like meat and wine and …
There’s a ‘Bad Yogi’ on Facebook, who posts pictures of herself contorted on the streets of Nice, holding a large glass of red wine. She inspires me too.
So, if you’ve never tried it before I dare you to ease up on the cardio and burn slowly in a yoga class. It’s much more fun than it sounds. And, now that I’m full of creative energy I’m going to get off the computer and put it to good use.