So… Nick posted about yoga on his blog this morning. And I left him a comment of encouragement, but also, I had to blog about this so that he might laugh, and that I might not effect his SEO with references to flatulance or any of the other lovely parts of my yoga experience.

You see, my wife is a yoga queen. She’s capable of all sorts of contortions, flexes, twists and positions that are apparently inidicative of being a flexible human being. She married me. I basically have three positions which I can assume: sitting, standing and laying down. There are brief times that I am not doing one of these, but they are merely when I am in between the transition from one to the other. She and I got a video of Yoga exercises to be done at home in the privacy of our living room. This was back in Texas. This was before Abby, I believe. So it has been some time. Jessica has been trying to get me to do yoga again since then.

We would change our clothes into the attire of people who were going to work out and then start the video. The problem is that, as many of you know, yoga is partially flexibility. I am about as flexible as a wet noodle. Well, a noodle formerly known as wet. So a once-wet-but-now-dry noodle. So I would sit on the floor, start the positions, nearly give up due to not being able to reach my toes with my legs not bent, be repremanded by Jessica and then make it about 1/3 of the way through the 30 minute video. For those of you keeping track, that’s 10 minutes. Ten minutes of flexing my body in ways it is not used to being stretched.

One of the claimed benefits of yoga is that it helps your body detoxify. Well, my body apparently stores up toxins in a gas form. About 10 minutes into the video I would start ‘passing wind.’ And then with each change of position I would continue to do so. This is one of the single most powerful non-yoga arguments I can come up with for men. It is very difficult to streth into a position that requires muscular control and balance while also trying to have control over other muscles that may prevent the room from being uninhabitable. So, once things would start ‘detoxing’ we would be either laughing or crying but the yoga would be heavily interupted.

Is it just me? Am I the only one who gets gassy due to yoga? It may be possible, but I’m hoping that I’m not alone, unless I’m doing yoga, and then I should be left alone.