Word: sweated
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...Yoga Sutras, expounding ashtanga, or eight-limbed, yoga philosophy. The room is dimly lit and already slightly clammy when the students begin huffing and puffing their way through ten repetitions of surya namaskara, or sun salutation, the opening asana. Within a few minutes, their bodies are glistening with sweat as they flex themselves into scary positions, sometimes tugged and pushed by the teacher, all apparently impervious to the army of mosquitoes buzzing all around...
...marathon, many of the runners adhered to a regimen of three or four-hour runs on weekdays, followed by incrementally lengthening “long runs” on weekends. For these runners, training was no chore. “It feels good to work up some sweat, breathe a little heavier. After spending all day with computers, reading books and stuff, and with Annenberg giving you unlimited food, you gotta shake off the crust,” Novey said. Levenson described her weekday runs with her friend as her “hour of chit-chat...
...With a peal of laughter, Felicity spurred her horse and tried to catch up to The Stable Boy. The ripe sun beat down on them as they galloped. Felicity could feel the sweat trickling down into her decolletage as she rode, and the wind tumbled her hair into glorious disarray. The half-tamed stallion coursed beneath her. “Onward, Zalathal!” she urged, striking the crop against the Spanish steed’s rippling rump...
...though he described the coming months’ tasks with precision and authority, he was barely conscious of his own speech. Zalathal’s flanks were dark with sweat, and The Stable Boy, now shirtless, was pouring cool water from a bucket all down the curve of the beast’s spine. Frederick gave himself completely to the scene before him. He wondered what The Stable Boy would say if Frederick offered to rub him down...
...realized what a beautiful day it was. Do you know how to ride, Viscountess?”Her eye boldly met his. “No. I want you to teach me,” she said.The Stable Boy stepped closer. She could smell him, the sweetness of sweat, the sourness of leather and manure. He leaned against the door frame. If she tottered just a step, if she relaxed her taut body just a little, she would touch him. “As you wish, Viscountess,” he said. “I mean not to boast...