I’m about to have another First to write about. As well as running, Mandarin, bird-watching loom-ing (a brief phase to keep Jonah company during his equally brief craze), aquafit, macaron-baking (twice) and Scottish country dancing (F for fail), I will soon be adding Yoga to my list of learnings since arriving here in Singapore. I’ve had a terrible bad back for the last month and this opportunity to try out a yoga class has dropped out of the great fitness menu in the sky at the perfect time for me, as the chances of me getting into running gear any time soon are becoming slim (shame that’s not my waistline). My first class is tomorrow morning, with a friend who is just about to qualify and needs guinea pigs. I’m game! I only hope I’m still friends with her by 10:30.  Will report back from beyond the yogamat.

Next day:
Hooray, we’re still friends! In fact we’re more than friends, we are officially now Teacher and Student. Three of the four other people at K’s inaugural trainee yoga session this morning turned out to be mates of mine, so it was a very chatty bending session, which was nice. I met one friend in a lift and we both confided we weren’t a fan of the ‘om’ type of yoga. But not only did K have us blowing out noisily and bending our legs around our knees while stretching our arms out behind our ears (at least I thought that’s what she told us to do), she had us omming and ahhhing as well. She’s a gentle but confident teacher with a lovely, sure way about her, and a GoodSenseOfHumour (a vital component for things like this). There was a bell, plus yogi tea at the end, and a snack, and those lovely mates I mentioned before, and I felt truly wonderful at the end – refreshed, calm and stretched out in a good way. I immediately signed up for Lesson No 2.

At least 18 years have passed since my first – and last – brush with yoga, a disappointing trial of forced meditation and unreasonable twisting. It takes a certain maturity to admit you’re a bit rubbish at something, which I clearly was unable do at the time, when in fact I should’ve just called it a day. Well now I’m older, creakier and frankly could do with the help. Chilling out is something I’ve been meaning to learn for ages – this morning’s session felt like someone had caught my brain by the ankle mid-flight and held up a big STOP sign. I’m very happy to stop for a bit, and my back will be happy with all the bending. Plus I’m sure this means I get to buy a new set of ActiveWear.