Not a Yogi

Ever since I started my new job, and I guess if I'm really honest with myself, ever since El Hombre and I embarked on our travels back in August, I haven't exercised a lick. I guess I try to walk in HK when I can, but more often than not, I'll hop in a cab or on a bus or on the tram. Meanwhile, I continue to stuff my face with delicious things and in HK, my diet has changed from mostly vegetarian to mostly pork-seafood-dumplings-rice-noodles. So since it's the new year and all, I decided I should try to start some sort of exercise regime, and since my schedule is too irregular and too demanding to manage a regular workout schedule (such as running regularly), I decided to try out a yoga class. I was told that Pure Yoga is one of the best in HK, and when I called them to ask about classes, they were gracious enough to offer me a free trial class.

So yesterday I went to a class called "Hot Hour" and concluded that yoga is not for me. First, all I could think was how unhygienic and dirty yoga is. You put your bare feet all over a mat (and if you don't have your own mat, all over a mat that other people have sweated on and put their dirty bare feet on), then lie on that same mat, sometimes with your face down (for example, child's pose). That's just gross. Second, is yoga really exercise? Seems like super-glorified stretching to me. My heart rate didn't go up, and had I not been in a purposely over-heated room, I wouldn't have broken a sweat. Third, I simply don't have the patience to sit through an hour of glorified stretching. I'd rather be running, or shopping, or eating, or watching TV. So my resolution to do yoga in 2011 was a big fat FAIL.