Speaking of exercise, I went to Gentle Flow Yoga class for the second time ever today. I'm still trying to figure out how twisting my legs up like a maimed pidgeon, posing as an insecure, trembling warrior, and sticking my butt up in the air to impersonate a dog can be considered gentle. I'm officially convinced that I must be the least flexible woman on the planet. The only other folks in the class who seem to struggle as much as me are the guys. I know it's not good to compare myself to others. Surely that is interrupting the gently flowing-zenlike-warrior-pidgeon-depressed-dog energy that I'm supposed to be generating. But sheesh, a girl needs something to do while taking breaks to avoid a full body cramp.
