I went to my 84th yoga class last night; dynamic yoga in Virgin Active. An admittedly eccentric looking woman joined the session a few minutes in after sliding shyly into the studio and asking if I was the instructor. The sneer of cold command comes us trumps again. My life is a triumph of style over substance and I can't even touch my toes without warming up, but I was secretly flattered. She wouldn't have made the same mistake an hour later with slips of girls blooming into headstands as I grunted and failed.
I'm still slightly uneasy (see Icons passim) about what the great unwashed think of asanas, so I'm greatly cheered by WBI Ryan Giggs endorsement of practice as a building block of his sporting longevity.
I can't help but think that the space cadet below however is undoing our good work.
Prodnose: Score another one for the Tiny (yonin) E!
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