Those who know me offline are aware that I despise almost all forms of exercise. Rote, repetitive movements, meat heads grunting and dropping dumbbells on the floor, chicks in pony tails and ear buds running on treadmills... all serve to repel me. That is why "discovering" yoga felt like a revelation. Not off putting fashion lalalimey, or unattainable cirque du soliel yoga, but actual "tell the instructor you got a bum knee" yoga with copious blocks, straps, blankets, mats, bolsters, and even chairs.

I speak of Iyengar yoga. In the class I wandered into were senior ladies doing sun salutes next to hard bodies and chubby bodies alike. These were ordinary people striving, learning, tipping over, and trying again. At one point the students stopped and helped each other feel what it's like to be in a perfect down dog: shoulders broad, neck relaxed, and a straight line from hips to hands. The whole thing was lead by a tall elegant man with a mellifluous voice and a humble papa bear personality. His words of wisdom echo in my mind even outside of class: ”you are your own guru,” ”do what you can do, be happy with what you can do,”"lengthen the exhale," and of course, ”soften the face." I knew he was conducting class with me in mind when he asked us to stand with our feet together, "heels touching, big toe mounds touching," then followed this directive with the adjustment, "those with fuller thighs may stand with their feet hip width apart." "Yes!" I thought, "He's looking out for me!" That first day I took heart, stayed, and learned.

The Iyengar style is actually perfect for a pedant like myself. The detailed instructions and emphasis on precision in alignment make certain that you learn properly and help reduce potential for injury. At the same time it is wonderfully flexible (haha, get it?) and you can modify at will to suit your needs.

Since then I have also sampled Kundalini, Hatha, and Vinyasa styles. While Kudalini was too hard, the Hatha classes were too soft, and Vinyasa was just right, Kundalini taught me something incredibly important: always drink your chai.

Yogi chai tea is just the thing to help your body recover from a great yoga class, no matter what style you prefer. I make it caffeine free with rooibos, while traditional recipes call for a tiny amount of black tea.  It will soothe your muscles, stoke your digestive fire, and save you from flu season. I swear by it and drink it by the gallon. In fact I am drinking some right now to speed my recovery from a sprained ankle because ginger helps inflammation. Even if it is all placebo effect I don't care cuz the stuff is delicious! 

Recently there was a gorgeous heat wave here in San Francisco. For two weeks the sun shone down directly on our pasty faces instead of filtering weakly through layers of clouds and fog. Generally unused to true direct sunlight we gratefully receive the pathetic little tendrils of light that emerge attenuated from the mist as we would a loving caress upon our countenance from His Noodly Appendage. 

It was with delight and astonishment that I rediscovered how much more vibrant the world is when properly lit! The bougainvillea, sweet pea, and geranium blossoms I encounter along my walk to work leapt out from their background foliage. Just looking at them made my shoulders drop and my serotonin levels rise. Of course, despite enjoying the added light and brilliance, I still wore long sleeves and a broad brimmed hat. So much for Vitamin D. At a later date I'll have to work in a recipe for a Vitamin D rich food.

For now I shall focus on something cool to drink after a long, hot day and a sweaty, awkward commute home. Speaking of awkward, has anyone noticed that San Franciscans don't know how to dress for summer? We still wear our dresses with boots and tights, except as a concession to the higher temperature the tights are hiked up to show a few inches of shin, and the quotidian boho scarf is draped loosely about our shoulders, rather than wound snugly around our neck. Really, we just look silly: like adolescent birds halfway thru molting into their adult feathers, or Goths wearing their weeds in Arizona.

So what is a somewhat health conscious self styled foodie to do when caught in an unexpected tho welcome summer? I'll give you a hint (pretend you didn't read the tile of this post) mint grows like a weed in Honey's garden. What better use for it than a mint infused simple syrup?