Rob Estes, Mr. Silk Stalkings-slash-new 90210 TV series, was back in my spin class this week. And, as a special bonus, he followed me into the Yoga for Athletes class right after.

The good:

It would appear the man was born without hamstrings.

I'm not kidding.

Before class even started I watched him sit down on his mat, legs straight out with knees locked, reach forward, grab the arches of his feet and then - I am absolutely not making this up - rock backward, still holding onto his feet, until he was flat on his back, legs above his head, toes on the floor. Dude was still holding his feet, knees still locked. Kinda like plow pose, if you're yoga familiar, but way harder.

I don't have to try to know I can't do that. Something would snap. It would be loud, painful and probably inoperable. But watching him do it? Well. I'm sure there are a few ladies out there who could think of someway to make that a useful skill.

Also good:

The Yoga for Athletes class involves approximately 7,500 tricep pushups. I'm not making that up either. Should you need somebody to come over to your house and do some tricep pushups, I'm prepared to help you out. So is Rob.

You've never seen backs of arms like his backs of arms. Really. You haven't. Trust me. But you should try to very soon.

The bad:

He leaned over in the middle of class and wrung out the front of his shirt. I saw it out of the corner of my eye, and at first, I thought he was peeing on his mat. That much liquid was pouring out. It was like a faucet.

Being a freaky sweat-er is considerably better than being a mat pee-er. But still. Ew.