I’m not sure, but I think it’s physically impossible for my writer’s body–you know the stereotype body of one who makes a living, or at least attempts to make a living with writing: the Hemingway body, the nice packed flesh that is common with one who sits around and researches and doesn’t have a healthy diet, not that Hemingway was unhealthy - to bend in the way the Yoga lady and the Yoga man asks of me. I’m doing instructional videos, rather than dishing out the cash to take a course. Why yoga? I dunno, of all the calming physical activities that one can do - now don’t let the stereotype lead you to believe that yoga is 100% sweat free, when Darsow had us doing the Salute to the Sun stance, it was straining. I remember a bead of sweat dropping from my nose down to the wooden, supposedly waxed floor, puddling there as a warning - If you’re sweating from here, so are your hands. Not to mention that this piece of exercise, if you wish to call it that or not is up to you, also brought back a high school injury that I’m too ashamed to talk about here.
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