Superhooping

"Revolution" Resolutions

So I haven't been hooping.  Much. 

I've got about forty pounds left to lose after the August birth of my own little hooper. I've been out of the game . . . and way off mine.  And since my body's been on mind, hooping has too. 

Renewing my confidence has meant a good bit of soul-searching.  Why do I hoop, again? I mean, I thought I knew.  I hoop because it's fun, because it makes me feel good, right?  So what's up? 

Hooping's not the only sport where I've lost some pizazz. I'm a runner. I've run 5 half marathons in 2 countries. But post-baby, I'm only up to 4 miles so far.  Every sport draws on a different point of personal inspiration.  When I'm running, I tap into a certain ambition, a battle between two sides of me -- the part that wants to quit when it gets hard and the part that knows I can keep going.  Every run is a small symbolic victory for my internal optimist and a mini life lesson.
(Kickboxing, on the other hand, feeds off my anger.  I haven't kickboxed in years, so I'm going to assume that my inner angst-ridden teenager is finally subdued.) 

But what fuels my hoop?  I was recently reminded that my hooping is integrally linked to my sensuality.  When I hoop, I tap into a kind of self-expression that reflects how I feel about my body and how it relates to the bodies around me. Like nothing else in my life, hooping has zero to do with the chatter of my mind. Hooping is my body talking.  And lately, I haven't been listening.

My hooping has been a performance for so long -- tied up with its matching costumes that no longer fit, the tricks that are about nine months out of practice, and a feeling of flow and beauty in my movements that seem to belong to another, more youthful Lara -- that I've been experiencing a bit of (ahem) performance anxiety. . .

And since picking up my hoop again means wanting to feel beautiful and mine again, then it's time! I've just wrapped two new 2007 hoops -- one for me and one for my new running partner.  Tomorrow, I'm going to turn on Stevie Wonder's "For Once in My Life" and remember the joy of moving my hips.  I'm on a mission to get my chops . . . and my body  . . . back.

Here's to feeling beautiful. And here's to jumping back in the hoop.

Read others' new year's hooping resolutions and add yours here to the hooping tribe: http://hooping.tribe.net/thread/46ffbf1b-12ad-4b4a-9d3c-b22a20d657bc 

Posted by superhooper at 05:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Hooping with a burgeoning pregnant belly, you might think, is no easy task. Throughout nine months, the axis around which my hoop turned changed daily in size and shape. It took a little extra effort, granted. But it was another valuable step in my (r)evolving relationship with my body.

Although I didn't know it yet, I was pregnant during my hooping trip to Anguilla in mid-December.  By Christmas, I was puking during my early morning run.  I was proud to think I'd hoop through all three trimesters. I'm a Superhooper, right?  But it wasn't until my belly got harder and all my internal organs had finished rearranging themselves that hooping felt right.

Well, it didn't feel right, really.  I had no waist, of course.  And even if I could have seen my hips, they were aching.  And hooping is all muscle memory. My muscles didn't have any idea, much less a memory, of how to move for two!  I was terrified I would fall.  Just walking was a challenge -- how  was I going to spin? Still, after several months, hooping was possible again, even if it felt like I was dancing with someone else's body.  And the look on people's faces seeing a very pregnant woman hoop was priceless.  Few people saw our picture in the paper in April, fire hooping at five months along, but I am giddy to have the coolest memento ever for my little one's baby book.

Looking back, I wish I hadn't indulged my frustrations as much as I did.  I wish that I had spent less time annoyed at the tricks I couldn't do and more time playing with this new and changing space.  But there were truly beautiful moments.  I felt strong and powerful.  I imagined what my little girl was feeling in the womb as it rocked in circles. I thought about how hooping was keeping me in top shape for labor and how one day my little hooper and I would dance together to this very song.

The day before my little girl arrived was the most fun I had hooping pregnant. For the first time, moving in and out of my hoop felt effortless.  We danced together for more than an hour and when we stopped, I felt the first hints that she was on her way.

Posted by superhooper at 02:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)