Even with a banging headache, I had every intention of heading to the gym tonight. I came in from work, exchanged my handbag for my gym bag and shot straight back out the door before I was even tempted to go anywhere near the sofa. My parents live on the way to the gym so I planned to drop a little treat off to cheer up my Mum as she’s been poorly with the flu. Leaving my bag in the car, I ran in explaining that I wasn’t going to stay but by the time the length of a football match had passed I was still there chatting away. It was now too late to go the gym. Damn! A drastic change of plan was needed to make sure I didn’t mess up on Janathon day 10.
I started doing the usual lounge rug routine of sit-ups, press-ups, a few token star jumps and lunges but it just wasn’t doing it for me tonight and then I remembered my hoola hoop. I haven’t had it out since the summer and I wasn’t entirely sure I wasn’t going to end up wrecking my lounge as I haven’t used it in here before. I bought the Hoola hoop two years ago and even did a couple of classes at the gym with it. I really liked the idea of some fun exercise but it wasn’t so fun when I met the instructor Erika and then realised that the Hoola class at 7:00 on a Tuesday morning consisted of just me and Erika. You don’t want to hear the line “Brilliant, just the two of us then. Let’s Hoola!”.
It was an hour of pure humiliation where Erika snaked her hips and I struggled to keep the hoop going. Before I’d even mastered one hoop she was throwing another round my waist.It all got pretty messy throwing hoops around in the air, over my arms and a few got flung across the hall. The arm type exercises are definitely not advisable in small living areas judging by the distance the hoop travelled. Hoola-ing did get my heart racing and despite the humiliation and giant bruises on my hips, it was pretty fun. I went to the class a few more times but it was always a private session with Erika and me, the beginner Hoola Hooper. In the end I opted for hoola-ing my way around the garden at home to avoid further humiliation when the routine’s got too complicated.
When we moved into the flat in May, I went down on the towpath a few times to spin my hoop as we don't have a garden anymore. Me and my giant hoop got a few funny looks but I didn’t care as it got me moving which has got to be a good thing and it made me smile.
I asked my boyfriend to take some snaps mid-hoola and they are probably some of the most unflattering pictures of me I have ever seen but if they make just one more person get up off their sofa and do just a little bit of exercise this week I will be happy. Believe it or not, the shots below are the good ones. I have saved you from the others by immediately deleting. I wouldn't put you all through that.
In case you’re interested, I didn’t wreck my lounge tonight. I stuck to keeping the hoop spinning around my waist rather than flinging over my arm to avoid the chances of any damage being caused. I think the only damage is to my street-cred after putting the photos below up on my blog.