up up up

i am not getting much exercise but this will be remedied soon when i convince my other self to get back into the yoga studio so for now i am walking to class and taking the stairs rather than the elevator to the 7th floor.

it seems little, only 7 floors, but by the end i am panting and trying to look calm as the o2 refuses to enter the blood stream fast enough to go to the brain so that i dont faint, yeah i am cool thanks not going to fall over, no problems here, ignore the heaving rib cage...

so up and down the flights i go at least 3 times a day which i think is pretty good and makes for the walk home a little tough as the calves seethe in pain but i push them on with the power of my feeble mind that could end all this futile behaviour if it got its body back into the studio dammit!

yogi mishmash

today at the ungodly hour of around 8.30 a certain someone's brother sparked a rude awakening to remind me that i wanted to attend the saturday yoga class... 9am sat classes are ridiculous, but that is another post entirely...

arrived at the studio to find the 'i can bend anyway till way in my 80's' teacher not present and some woman filling in the gap... already not a good sign, not that i have anything against woman teaching yoga, again another posts topic... moving onwards to the gripe of the day...

what is it with yoga teachers and chappies bubble wrapping philosophy's? i attend classes so that i can bend, twist and elongate my body into the lean mean fighting machine physique that it deserves to hold, not to get some smish smash one with your self dripple dr phil worship. if i wanted to be dr philed i would tune in for the intravenous oprah fuled philosophy not pay top dollar for the teeth nashing...

i started relaxed got to hear how 'yoga was my friend' according to this writter, how 'my body mind are tuned' blah blah why am i no longer relaxed, 'relax let the practice sink in' um we haven't started yet... 'open yourself to the experience' get off the hippie crack this is a sleek zen like studio catering to my urban chic needs...

leave philosophy to those who while away the day deliberating about the inner likeness of being or the ability to de-construct the nut.