The hoop is a glorious thing. It helps me to loosen up the ol' bod, burn some cals, and make me feel all sex kitten-y. Moreover, I have found it to be a moving meditation that is like none other I have experienced. Unfortunately, I have not been hooping as much as I would like; illness, tasks, strategic planning, public appearances, and other busybusybusy work has gotten in the way of it (hence the newest roll of backfat I discovered several days ago).
I signed up for this kick-@ss workshop many moons ago after receiving an email from the local hoop group called HoolaMonsters. It seems that the King of the Hoop, Jonathan Baxter, will be in Sarasota to conduct one of this famous HoopPath weekend workshops. (Shout-out to the ladies: He's gorgeous!!!) In a delusional fit of confidence, I signed up for the sucker. Flash forward months later, and I'm getting ready to hoop with girls half my age and size that possess at least five times the talent and sex appeal. Yippyf#ckingskippy. This should do wonders for my tender self-esteem.
Actually, this is good for me right now. I am in need of a healthy dose of surrender. There are other areas of my life that aren't being executed according to the mental choreography I painstakingly developed. There is a fair amount of wringing of hands and gnashing of teeth that has taken place in my world lately. I think that sweating my nards off in a weekend-long hula hoop class is exactly what the alternative healing physician ordered. It will help me to forget about the piddly little things that I have allowed to occupy my noggin rent-free; it will put me in my fears and other assorted gunk; and it will most certainly put me back in my body once again.
I know I love the hoop. Now I need to remind myself that I love myself too.
After all, it's not every voluptuous, well-seasoned 39-year old woman who has the cajones to attend a hooping retreat with a roomful of serpentine, drop-dead gorgeous girlie-girls.
Please wish me, my abdomen, and my self-worth luck.
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For your consideration and/or comment:
What have you done lately that has made you step out of your comfort zone?
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Visit www.TheresaRose.net to receive your Daily Dose of Mojo!
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4 comments:
That sounds like a ton of fun, hope you enjoy!
It was fun, but six hours of hooping took a toll on me! I feel like I got run over by a truck with the license plate "HOOPBAX".
God Bless Advil.
Have a good one!
Theresa
I can at least chime in about the incredible feeling of acceptance and love that comes from being in a HP workshop. You might be surprised to see just how many kinds of people attend them..."old", young, tall, short, chubby and thin... The hoop doesn't care what you look like or how old you are - it heals if you are open to it.
And yes, without a doubt, muscles you didn't even know existed will be talking to you for a while after 6 hours of intensive hooping! ;)
I love your blog, by the way! :) Thank you for this post.
Lauren E, thanks for the comment! Yep, the hoop is a pretty righteous healer...and an inexpensive one too.
Take care, and make it a good one!
T
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