I’m about to do something I’ve never wanted to do before and something I never ever, ever, ever thought I would do. I am going to a yoga class. The first time I tried yoga I was in my parents living room with my two sisters and it was more like a scene from Miranda than a relaxing, restorative exercise regime. Since then I’ve attempted the occasional DVD but I just get bored. I’m not a stretch and relax person, I’m more of a short sharp bursts type of person. But, recently my persistent neck pain has increased and I just have to try something new to improve it. I used to see an excellent osteopath (happy to recommend to anyone needing treatment) who advised me to build up the muscles in my neck WHICH I HAVEN’T DONE. It’s entirely my fault that I am still in pain and I’m too ashamed, after a year to return and admit my failure. Also, he’s based in Golder’s Green and it’s an awful long way from my flat. So, I’m going to try yoga. In a public space. And I can’t touch my toes. Or my knees. Oh crap.
(This will not be how I look.)
Thankfully my local yoga temple (it’s not a temple but I like to think of it as one) has a deal on for new starters – 3 sessions for £15. Next week I’m back to working 3 days a week (I’ve been doing full weeks recently *gasp*) so I’m going to venture along at the end of the week and let you know how mortifying and contorting the experience was for me.