Forget Google Wave invites, it’s all about invites to other people’s exercise classes for me. 
The other week it was Pilates whilst I stayed with my Mum in Sussex, this morning it was Bikram Yoga with Ruby in London.
I’m like a travelling exercise-woman!
So what is Bikram Yoga I hear you say? It’s intense that’s what it is. An hour and a half of yoga in the heat. Five minutes in and already the sweat is pouring off me: surely this is just plain silly.
Forty minutes in, willing the clock hands to move forwards faster with every stretch, I decided a little gasp of fresh air was in order. So I left the sweat den to go to the oasis that was the cool airy toilet. I had remained in the toilet as long as I thought I could get away with as I rattled the toilet door. Nothing. I checked I had unlocked the door, yes, but the door knob wouldn’t turn. Maybe it was my sweaty hands, maybe the door was stuck – hooray! Then feeling mildly panicked I knocked gently on the toilet door, then again. The yoga teacher came to my rescue. She wasn’t happy though, I’d interrupted the beginning of her floor based Bikram.
I enjoyed the yoga, but the heat, even if it does warm your muscles, being blinded by sweat is just not fun.
But one of my rules of life is to try everything twice. Well, there’s always a chance I could be wrong first time round, unlikely, but possible. So I guess…watch this sweaty space.
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