Social Workout

A Yoga Affair in Little Italy   I arrive on the yoga mat with bones, body, and soul frazzled. I.AM.YOU Yoga is on the sixth floor of a building deep in the heart of Little Italy. It's my first visit. Outside: Waiters in white coats, wives in Juicy Couture, and husbands scarfing canolis in Sopranos tees. Inside (by way of stainless steel elevator): Lauren, remarkably toned former investment banker in skintight, black short shorts, a dozen black yoga mats laid out in tight rows on the polished hardwood, and twin turntables at the ready. Mister Bob Dalbolina kicks off a tremendously physical yoga series to soothe the tightly wound souls of the very fit mostly female class. All good, but on this night, in these very close quarters, I realize to my horror that caffeine and stress are rising from me in pungent form. Oh god, I'm stinky.