Yoga giggles, Montegos and the theatre - #s 5, 15 and 17

The clock is ticking and the end of my twenties is fast approaching. So over the past few weeks I've been scrambling to get my final few things done. 

Yoga giggles - #17

An artist's impression of how I may have looked

As well as exciting new challenges, this list has been about broadening my mind; specifically towards things I've been quite dismissive of in the past. This very much includes yoga. To some it's the ability to transform mind and body; to me it's flexible show-offs who's definition of a good night is eating flavourless organic food whilst sitting in judgement on anyone who eats and heaven-forbids enjoys carbohydrates.

But I wanted to give it a go - you never know, I might be missing something. Turns out I'm not. Last week I took my very first - and what I suspect may be my last yoga class. 

It's fair to say that when it comes to flexibility; I have none. I have the torso of someone who's 6' 4" and the legs of someone who's 4' 6". This makes things like touching toes and kicking legs high somewhat tricky; I just don't bend that way. I did try to relax into it; I really did. But at one stage the instructor had people sticking out their tongues and rolling their eyes. It was at this stage I began corpsing and spent the next five minutes stifling my giggles. When the lady next to me clocked me laughing and started laughing too I caught a glimpse of the instructor looking somewhat unimpressed.

I decided this wasn't really me. But I have learnt that quiet contemplation and relaxing meditation doesn't really do it for me; my brain's doesn't switch off enough and I get distracted too easily. It also gave me cramp in my toe.

Who needs to bend and relax anyway.

New cars - #15

Grandad and his Austin Allegro

I've never been a petrol head. I'm the one who watches Top Gear for the challenges then switches over to try and catch A Touch of Frost on ITV3 when the test-driving cars bit comes on.

Cars have just never really been my thing. I can drive one - I know when one looks good but when it comes to break-horse powers, miles-per-gallon and carburetors I genuinely haven't got a clue.

I think it stems from the cars of my childhood. My grandparents set the tone; one Austin Allegro and one nuclear-yellow Austin Marina. For my parents it was an Austin Montego which was later upgraded to a Rover Montego; you can't say we didn't try our best to prop up the bucket-rusting British car industry.

Montegos. Can't think why our car industry collapsed.

Although at one stage we did move away from the shoddily built English cars to get a Ford Mondeo Ghia with electric front windows. My fondness for thoroughly unremarkable cars continued into my 20s and for the last 8 years I've driven a solid yet unspectacular Peugeot 206 which in its later years has developed what I'd term 'character'. Like when you turn the heaters on and the fan squeals in a high-pitched sound which only the dogs of Dudley can hear. Or when you're traveling at 70mph down the M6 and the warning light telling you that your door is open flashes at you. That's a bit scary the first time it happens. So I wanted to finally get myself a car which didn't leave me feeling anxious on any journey which is longer than 30 minutes and which didn't make me feel slightly like a failed hairdresser.

Bargain: my new wheels

So...I got this. I've never really wanted a Mini - but the finance package on this was too attractive; £10 from The Entertainer toy shop.

Ok - so I never managed to get a real new car. It was one financial outlay too far but before too long when my Peugeot inevitably gives up the ghost and goes to the scrap dealer in the sky; I'll be looking for help from anyone who can tell me the difference between a differential and a dipstick.

In a West End town...#5

The only reason to-date to go to the theatre

Putting aside the fact that I've still not really mastered this swimming lark; number five on my list has been one of the more illusive of my challenges. As I approach my thirties I've decided to add a little culture into my life. And what says pretentious culture more than an evening out at the theatre. 

Wolverhampton's Grand Theatre was never a mainstay of my childhood. A school trip to see J.B Priestley's 'An Inspector Calls' was pretty much the highlight of my theatre goings; alongside the thirty-eight trips to see 'Buddy - The Musical'.

So if I was going to do this I was going to do it in style; by taking in a show at the London West End. And although I haven't yet been - a show at the London Palladium is booked in for a few week's time. Michael Flatley's Lord of the Dance - not really my choice but hey, it's another one ticked off the list.

I've two days left in my twenties; just one more thing to do...

I'm still chasing cars...and I know my dad will like this...