my hoop in the only position it holds for more than 2 seconds

Shortly after buying a hula hoop last summer, I moved it from a spot downstairs where I couldn’t miss it to a hiding place upstairs.  I had read about hula hoops as the latest exercise craze:  stand in front of your TV and swirl yourself a new waistline while experiencing a complete aerobic workout.  I was proficient at hula hooping as a kid, and yes, I’ve seen “hula hoop” used as a verb.  I remember constantly asking my parents to watch me and always being able to keep the hoop spinning longer than my mother could.

In August, when I brought home my new pink, sparkly hoop, I immediately went outside to begin my workout. Could anything be better than exercising in the back yard, bare feet in the grass, on a breezy summer’s day?  It turns out that “yes” was the best answer to that question.  My new hula hoop, purchased at Toys R Us, didn’t feel quite right.  It lacked the heft of the old one, at least as far as my aging brain could remember.  It didn’t actually say “hula hoop” on the label.  Maybe it was invented for some other purpose and was not a tool to wear down my waistline.  What’s worse, it was obviously defective.  I know this because it could only could make one revolution around my circumference before dropping to the ground, not just the first time I tried it, but every time.

A month ago I was reminded of my now-lonely hula hoop, when I saw a class advertised at my local Y: How to hula hoop and how to make a hula hoop. Unfortunately I already had a commitment that day and missed the class.

Once again I put my hula hoop out of my mind, until yesterday when I got an email from fellow Blundering Blogger Jackie.   “This seemed like a subject you might want to give a whirl.  http://endlessbeauty.com/articles/my-hula-hoop-hoopla-newest-fitness-trend”
If you follow the link you will see that another woman experienced the same challenges  I did in attempting to remind her hips of the days when they could swivel rhythmically and hold the hula hoop in place, no hands.  The article contained a link to another website:  www.hooping.org.  For a few minutes this site seemed like the solution to helping me overcome my earlier failures.  In some ways the best news I got from it was that I had mistakenly purchased a child’s hula hoop and that it was too small and too light weight for adults.  I followed the link to “how to hula hoop” and learned that you don’t swivel your hips; instead you rock back and forth.  This advice extended the revolutions completed by my hula hoop from one to three.  I then found directions for making an adult hula hoop and went immediately in search of my husband to tell him the good news. “I’m not making a hula hoop,” he said, “and you’d better not get involved with one of those that you use to make a ring of fire,” he added, as if a hula hoop circus act was something I had been seriously considering.  Undeterred, I went back on-line, only to find prices ranging from $43 to $58.  I’m going to put my child’s hula hoop back in the closet while I wait for the news about a 16-year-old starlet who has a new DVD and book out on the health benefits of hula hooping and is making a bundle from her licensed speciality hula hoop brand. Meanwhile I have to figure out how Jackie learned of my hula fitness dreams and subsequent shame.