So I didn’t plan to write this post today but after dragging one of my guy friends to yoga last week, I’m feeling majorly inspired. My friend is a… well… borderline meathead/weight room only at the gym type of guy and it was no easy feat baiting him into the yoga studio. Week after week he questions me about the validity of yoga as a workout, so this time instead of kidney punching him I dared him to come to a class. He obliged, because who doesn’t love a challenge? (AND if you’re a straight guy, a room filled with fit chicks in yoga pants is a win-win). We get to class and I set him up with one of those stinky, pre-loved yoga mats they save from the dumpster for beginners. I then claim two spots for us in the back row of the class because I’m nice and couldn’t bear to see his stressed/embarrassed face on display front and center. After a good laugh at his idea of stretching (Indian-style with his rigor mortis knees at his shoulders), our instructor intro’d the class, started the music, and we were off.