I’ve never been what you’d describe as a “gym rat” – throughout my years in New York, London (this is my second go around there) and Milan, I didn’t have a gym membership. Also, while my interest in fitness and wellbeing has gone up dramatically in recent years, I will never eat or drink anything that tastes bad, no matter how healthy it’s supposed to be (I’m thinking of the unfortunate carrot & wheatgrass smoothie I actually paid money for)! So, it’s come as quite a surprise that since joining a local gym last fall, I am a regular visitor. I believe the reason for this turnaround is my choice of exercise. I used to equate gym membership with sadistic spin classes (you know the ones where the instructor wears the annoying mic and shouts inane encouragement?!) but now I am a yoga and pilates devotee. If I feel like cardio, it’s Zumba for me although you can imagine how hysterical the image of a white woman trying to do Latin dance movements must be for spectators outside the studio! Anyway, back to yoga, there’s a type for every fitness level ranging from gentle (where I almost fell asleep during child poses and final relaxation) to the vigorous, aerobic-like version (I’ve actually seen women who think they’re in for an easy 1 hour stretching class go running from the room once the teacher gets going).

To be totally honest, when the instructor says things like “feel the depth of your breath” and “separate each vertebrae of your spinal cord” (sounds dangerous!), the meaning totally passes me by. However, and this story is inspired by my class today after a too long absence over the holidays, sometimes the real benefit of yoga is making a rainy day seem more tolerable. Clearly, the physical benefit is that I’m more flexible now than when I was a teenager although admittedly some creakiness of the joints can be heard  as I get into poses! But, after years of sitting at a desk and then lifting a child, this is the best thing I could’ve done to get back into shape. Mentally, although I still sometimes run through my to-do list, I’ve learned to switch off more.

Today, our lovely teacher Pandora said something that struck me during the cooldown “There’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad choice of clothes”. As it’s a really rainy, chilly day the advice to dress in layers was appropriate but the deeper sentiment was to view rain in a more holistic way, for lack of a better word. Her final relaxation took us through images of raindrops idly falling on windowsills and nourished soil ready to spring forth with flowers (if the spring ever comes). Under normal circumstances, my cynical side honed during years spent working in Finance would’ve popped up but today I felt rather calm after the class. So, later on I decided to test this zen-like state by not being annoyed for having to make the 20 minute walk home from Sophia’s school in the rain. And, do you know what? Not only did the rain clear up the minute we set out for home but Sophia fell asleep in her carriage – which never happens anymore – giving me time to drink a cup of tea and to draft this blog post! I’m not saying there is any connection whatsoever but repeat after me “Ommmmm” – it can’t hurt right?