Let me come clean: I'm a sports letch. Footy, snooker, darts, athletics, cycling - basically, anything but bloody boxing - I love watching sport. I punch the air, do a funny little jiggly dance when it gets exciting and swear at the TV like a drunken nun. But now the Olympics are here I didn't expect to become obsessed. It's only Day Four and since I switched on the telly on Saturday morning I've barely moved.
Around six years ago, I spent a month in a Yoga Ashram in India, living as a student with the Sivananda Yoga masters. This was one of the most incredible experiences of my life and taught me a great deal about the spiritual side of yoga, the origins of yoga and the more subtle side of yoga including prana (energy), chakras and higher conciousness.
It is mid-January 2012 and many of us have made the obvious realisation that our New Year's resolution to 'get fit and lose those Christmas puddings is just plain not going to happen. Well, not without that ludicrously expensive gym membership you convinced yourself you should invest in on the first day back from holiday and most likely will stop using in the next few weeks.
Yoga. The very word conjures up a picture of smug serenity accompanied by a faint whiff of mung beans. One variant, however, had always appealed: Bikram yoga. This was the most badass of yogas; 90 minutes of exercise in a room heated to 42 degrees centigrade. If Chuck Norris did yoga, it would be Bikram.
The problem I have with obesity is that for the massive majority of people it has come about through lifestyle choices and is, therefore, avoidable. I know that some people will say that they are the exception and that being overweight is genetic, or due to an allergy or intolerance, but for most people I just don't buy it.