I am a bad yogi. My inability to downward dog stems from a couple of separate factors: a lifelong disdain of stretching combined with weekly soccer games and squash matches played on slowly aging limbs and ligaments. If I'm being honest, there's also a certain intimidation or fear factor in my expected failure. As someone who defines himself at least in part by mostly succeeding in various athletic endeavors, the idea of struggling through a beginner yoga class brings the opposite of tranquility. What I need is a teacher (and not the type of teacher who told me during one of the few classes I've taken that my hamstrings were tight because I was squeezed in the birth canal). What I need is a pair of Nadi X tights.