Every Saturday morning I go to a Yoga class. Been doing it for several years now and I love it. My body unknots itself from the rigours of the working week, I get a great stretch, and I leave glowing. It's become a weekly highlight, and in some ways, become more important in my fitness regime than the bi-weekly trips to the gym. I've even wondered (and still am) about knocking the gym on the head and turn everything towards Yoga.

I like everything about it; from the warm-up through the exercises, the twisting, bending, suppleness of it all, to the transendence of the wind-down session, where we lay prone, at rest, and no external awareness, other than the rhythm of our breath, sometimes accompanied, I have to say, by the occasional throb of a tube train passing deep underground. In a way that gives it an accidental frisson, almost like a distant massage.