It's not you, it's me.

Yoga has always been something I've filed along with menstrual cups and wheatgerm, under the heading Just Not Interested, Thanks.

I'm sure it's all very nice and restful and would ameliorate the effects of all that pizza I've shoved down my gullet in America which is probably still lodging in my colon, explaining why my arse has tripled in size over the years, but then, so would colonic irrigation and lipo, and I'm not going there either. And anyway, people who do yoga wear sandals and have beards. That's my opinion and I will not be moved.

And today, my anti-yoga stance is gloriously vindicated. Yoga makes you fart, according to the British Yoga Teachers Association.

"When you are working on the manipura chakra, which is aligned with the navel, where the intestinal area is.....people do tend to break wind, and burp too. Holding certain postures and working slowly massages the organs and has a releasing effect. It is about changing the flow of energy - prana - and detoxifying the body. Part of that is expelling unwanted gases."

As I am sadly afflicted by the "slient but deadly" more often than the "loud odorless raspberry" I can even feel a sense of self-sacrifice in my continuing yoga boycott.

I did it for you, people.