I kicked off Movember at Gina Bates’ yoga class, trying not to laugh out loud at the whale sounds that began her playlist. Who knew the last laugh was on me?
Twenty minutes later, with my head below my knees, I began to regret the pre-class coffee and M&Ms as a terrible bead of sweat rolled off my nose and my stomach contracted like a ball of tin foil.
Thankfully, 20 years of “sea legs” inspired my core and my gag reflex to tagteam my esophogus, preventing an unwanted emission from interrupting the class.
After refueling with clam chowder and apple pie (not kidding), I realized a few things about last night’s yoga class.
1. I immediately felt better.
2. My core deserves better.
3. My yoga practice could be a lot better.
So if you’d like to sweat with a Portly Redhead, this Movember’s your chance. You’re invited to experience a short list of Philly studios with me. No moustache required. I’ll bring my own.