Yoga

In a vain attempt to fulfil the claim I make with my surname I have vowed to be healthier now I’m in Paris. It mostly involves eating fruit as well as biscuits and walking a bit further to the metro rather than round the corner. But last week I went to Yoga. I mostly went because a) it was free and b) all my mates were going.

After getting the metro in my trackies (a look I will try not to repeat) and subsequently a lot of weird looks I got to the place we were meeting. It turns out that the place we do it in is actually a club, which explains the bar in the corner of the room. I thought that it was just because you need a stiff drink afterwards, but apparently not!

We managed to get spaces at the back, behind the woman with the dog (more about them later). The back turned out to be quite a good place to be. I couldn’t understand what the teacher was saying anyway so it didn’t really matter if I could hear her or not! You could view as either really fortunate or massively unfortunate that the girl next to me was AMAZING. I could attempt to copy what she was doing but my distinct lack of ability meant I couldn’t in fact do so.

The one thing most people know about yoga (and I included myself in this category) is the downward facing dog position, which I must concede is especially funny when you see and actual dog licking its owner’s face as she’s doing the move!

I have to admit I do enjoy it, which is a new sensation for me regarding sport but I do get annoyed when she comes over and moves me into the right position. I understand it’s to help me but that kind of invasion of personal space really gets my goat.

Unfortunately I won’t be able to go this weekend as I’m going home (finally) for Reading Week so I’ll have to find something to replace it but knowing me I probably won’t!