I don’t usually wake up the morning after a workout with a sore ear and a bruised waist. And yet that’s exactly what I did after my first hula hoop class.
I’d heard that hula hooping builds core strength and gives you a good cardio workout. That may be true, but it appealed to me as something that would make me look ridiculous.
I’ve never been able to hula hoop, not even as a child. The hoop always dropped after a few paltry spins. But guess what? After 15 minutes of my hoop clattering to the floor, I got it! I even managed to hoop in both directions and figured out how to retrieve the hoop with my hips when it sank too low.
These are major accomplishments, people. I can’t tell you how proud I was.
What I can tell you is how fleeting that happiness was. Soon after I figured out how to keep the hoop spinning, the instructor tried to get me to move my feet. While hooping. Unwilling to risk my little success, I ignored her and stayed put.
The teacher was ridiculously graceful. She could probably make tacos and talk on the phone while hooping and never miss a gyration. My face made it clear that I was concentrating. That, or I was struggling to learn physics. Or I was mentally disturbed. Or all three.
Next we tried some more complicated (for me) moves, like spinning the hoop above our heads with our hands. This looks incredibly easy. It isn’t. I kept losing my grip. Flinging a hula hoop across the room goes against hoop class etiquette. Miraculously, there were no injuries. To anyone else. I dropped it on my own head plenty of times, and it was much heavier than my daughters’ hula hoops. Ouch.
Here is another move I failed to master: as the hoop circles your waist, place one hand on your lower back, palm out, grab the hoop and lift it (still spinning) straight above your head, without hitting your elbow, shoulder or ear, or losing momentum, and continue to spin it with your hand. It is a testament to how this blog has changed me that I continued to try this move despite my pathetic performance and sore ear.
Toward the end of class, our instructor demonstrated the “more complex moves” we’ll do the next time. So that was funny.
My friend, Lyn, plans to come to the next class with me. I hope our friendship can survive an unintentional flying hula hoop injury.