Mike Ritchey
Mike Ritchey

GUEST COMMENTARY

My wife told me this morning that she loves me more than yoga. Yoga? I mean, like, “You’re not downward facing dog maybe, but I still love you?” I guess yoga beats “I love you more than jogging,” though at the moment I am far from certain.

I might have hoped for something closer to the comparisons I see in the movies: “Oh, Rick, I love you more than life.” Ingrid Bergman to Bogart in “Casablanca.” But yoga? Does Holly tell Jesse Rickert she loves him more than skiing Hartman Rocks? Or, George Sibley. Does George tell Maryo he loves her more than water? Well, that may not be fair, knowing how George feels about water. But still.

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