Why? You ask
Why not? I protest.
I’ve recently started going to the gym, after roughly 20 years or less of debating whether attempting physical torture was worth it. Turns out it was, so I started using all sorts of machines that would “tone” and “perfect” specific parts of my body, and running on the treadmill for some time, although I didn’t fully enjoy the process or the experience in its entirety. To my surprise, I was not a gym person. Right until my friend brought a jump rope with her, and the rest was history.
I would jump that rope for hours and it would be wonderful. I would feel powerful because with enough practice, I was able to do fast normal and crossed rope jumps, back rope jumps and all that jazz, and soon enough, maybe double rope jumps? The possibilities were endless, and it was glorious.
So I thought, why not keep this up? Why need to force myself to work with cold machines when I can enjoy a light jump rope? I can even start hula hooping on the side. So I went first thing this morning to get a hula hoop from the shop down the road, I found one and bought it, I was happy with my purchase, right until I physically left the shop.
So I rested the hoop on my shoulder and continued my shopping spree as I needed to get a lot more things today, and I don’t know how I thought purchasing the hula hoop should be first on the list of many things to get, as it needed to accompany me wherever I went.
I started noticing how people would look at me as I walked down the road. People of all ages gazed at the girl holding a giant flashy pink and silver hula hoop, just casually walking around. I realized that when people saw this, they immediately expected you to do something with it. It was almost like they’ve imagined a whole new different past for me. Suddenly I wasn’t just a college student in Marketing anymore, I was the hula hoop girl, chasing her hula hoop dreams since she was a couple years old. Her mother, graceful and accomplished hula hoop champion, passed down the hula hoop that made her win the championships to her lovely daughter, who now works 24/7 to reach her dream, and to make her mother proud, reigning hula hoop champion, it’s in her blood, and she will win this. The girl was preparing a hula hoop flash mob with her hula hoop friends. This was her life, quite literally wrapped around her arm.
You know you’re winning at life when this many hula hoops are needed in one sentence.
It was funny to watch these reactions, as I literally did nothing but walk around from a shop to another, minding my own business. But my hula hoop was screaming and people were listening, as the colors and the size were disruptive to the usual, boring, ethical, colorless, shapeless mundane. Old women were startled, older men were intrigued, little girls were excited, and so was I.