Is it just ME

Or are men ruining yoga?

‘They assume they’ll be brilliant even if they have the flexibility of a breeze block’

MY YOGA class is the one moment in the week that’s just for me. A peaceful pause, 90 blissful minutes where I can zone out, untroubled by the demands of work, my children and everpinging WhatsApp groups.

Well, it used to be — until my sanctuary was infiltrated by the yoga dudes.

Men have discovered yoga in a big way — Lululemon, Nike and Adidas now sell men’s kit suitable for sun salutations, while online yoga platforms with manly names such as Broga Yoga and Wellness Warriors have sprung up. Twenty years ago, I rarely saw a bloke in my class. Last month, I was the only woman in one.

Now I’m all for inclusivity. Most of us need to move more and I won’t bore you about how amazing yoga is for your flexibility, fitness and stress levels. No, it’s not the fact that men are doing it that’s the problem, it’s how they do it. One sixtysomething wally in my class loudly and excruciatingly attempts to chat up the beautiful thirty-something teacher, who is clearly only being polite.

Another tubby middleaged guy takes his top off as we start stretching. Really? Then there’s the ageing hippy, bald but for a wispy ponytail, who wears cosmic-print leggings that leave nothing to the imagination. I once placed my mat behind him, only to be treated to this vomitinducing view during each downward dog.

While I’ve noticed fewer men in gentler classes, my advanced dynamic flow session attracts a lot, many total newbies. They assume they’ll be brilliant at it, even though 99 per cent of them have the flexibility of a breeze block. I spend the class wondering if someone will have a heart attack, with every pose soundtracked by grunting.

So please, yoga guys, if you must join in, remember: we were here first.