Jumping through hoops — kind of

There is plenty of proof that I am not an athletic, or even a co-ordinated, person. The scar on my chin is from an argument I had with the bathtub when I was really little; the scar beside my right eyebrow is from a mailbox I swear was not there 30 seconds before I hit it.

My parents have home video of my soccer and baseball games — I’m the girl by the net or in the infield, turning cartwheels.

With all of this in mind, if it feels like physical activity, I won’t do it. Or at least I won’t like it. But I do run, swim, rock climb and do yoga — all for different reasons and different benefits. And I much prefer to walk to work than drive, and not just because I have to pay for parking downtown.

But other than synchro, and now more recently yoga, I haven’t really taken any fitness classes. So imagine my surprise when a friend invited me to an aqua-fit/aqua-box class (yup, we’re old ladies) and I had a lot of fun. I am insanely un-co-ordinated (I’m doing better in aqua-box than aqua-fit) but I think a lot of it also has to do with the fact that I love the water, and I don’t feel at all insecure.

But what was I thinking when I signed up for a hooping class? It’s exactly what it sounds like — you hula hoop and do different tricks with the hoop on different parts of your body, for about an hour.

My first class was tonight, and it was fun. Again, surprised that I don’t feel insecure at all, but it’s nice, too. My lower back is a little tight, so it’ll be interesting to see how I feel tomorrow — the instructor said to expect bruises on your hip bones and hands (we were twirling the hoops off our hips and over our heads onto our hands, and then back down onto our hips).

Honestly, I thought I would be better at it than I was though, sadly. A couple of years ago, I went out to St. Albert with a co-worker and her kids, for the St. Albert Children’s Festival. There’s a street performer who travels around the grounds with a bunch of hoops for kids to play with, and O. picked one up and challenged his mom, my co-worker, to do the same. She told him to go ahead, but not to be outdone by a five-year-old, I picked one up, expecting the hoop to drop off my body with the first swing. Actually, O. and I had a competition to see who could keep their hoop going the longest. It was a lot of fun, and I even once tried to make my own hoop so I could hoop at home, but it didn’t turn out very well.

So that’s what I was thinking when I signed up for the class, even though I definitely didn’t retain that talent I had that summer. The hoop dropped a lot more tonight.

It also kind of feels like horseback riding — you think you can do it forever, because it doesn’t feel like that much work, but you definitely feel it once you stop.

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