Pheromone Phriday

There's a hot guy in yoga class and I'm not sure how I feel about it.

I mean, on the one hand THERE'S A HOT GUY IN YOGA CLASS! He's got a sort of Taye Diggs quality about him although not quite as buff (few are). Did I mention he groans and breathes heavily when he's working a posture? He's friendly, complimentary of our work, and earnestly trying. And two weeks in a row, he's parked his mat next to mine!

On the other hand, he's changing the atmosphere of the class. The Friday class is made up of women like me, a few older women, and like one guy there with his pregnant wife. Yoga is one of the few places I go where I don't think about how I look. I'm going there to improve my body and calm my mind. Now suddenly, I'm wondering about or worse yet, checking out my ass as I move through Warrior II into Extended Side Angle.

The thing is I'm not the only one acting like a sophomore trying to be cool in front of the captain of the football team. Class regular, Liz is sidling up to a stretched-out Taye before class and providing him with a demonstration of how he might better work his downward dog. Mmm Hmm. And Lisa, our bookish, sweet instructor is suddenly spending juuuust a leettle more time with him "may I assist you?" she asks. But that's not what I see in her eyes.

So. What to do? I suppose I'll look on it as a positive. Skipping Friday yoga won't be quite as attractive as it's been at times. I really needed some cute new yoga clothes. And we'll find out if sweatproof makeup lives up to the hype.

Namaste.