Yoga

There was a girl handing out leaflets at Shepherds Bush tube station the other day. Normally I swerve anyone offering free calls to Kazakhstan, paint ball bargains from a camouflaged trestle table, or 'Can I ask you a question about your hair' people. The girl was offering a free yoga session, so, in the name of the blog, I took it and had my free session tonight.
The yoga centre was on Uxbridge Road, on the top floor, above a Caribbean fast food restaurant. The room was about the same size as my bedroom i.e. big enough for a double bed and a few nicknack's. There were 7 yoga mats, 5 women, 1 German teacher and me.... The music consisted of a small speaker floating out a female voice singing a 'smooth jazz' version of Bob Marley hits.... There was less of a 'natural mystic flowing through the air', and more of a curry goat and roti .
The lesson was actually quite fun, but the Yogi did say 'its not a competition' at one point when everyone was relaxing in child's pose and I was silently counting myself down from a 2 minute plank that I set myself.... Now that I know it's possible to practice Yoga in a room the size of a postage stamp I think I will just do it in my bedroom from now on, and then I can salute the sun shining out of my competitive arse as much as I like.