I am turning “4o-ahem” this April and none too happy about it. I mean I just got over turning 35 a few weeks ago. So to celebrate turning 49 I’m picking up a new hobby: Lyra dancing also known as the hoop. I think it is high time I pick up aerial arts, don’t you think? This is what it’s supposed to look like:
I do not look like this.
But, I can get up on the hoop and flail around and spin, sort of. It’s supposed to just revolve. My teacher says I spin like I’m circling a drain. She is being kind.
The thing about this innocent looking steel hoop is that it hurts in the most interesting places. For instance, the knee hold, where you hand upside down by one bent knee?
My right knee thinks this is the most fun thing we’ve done since throwing our sand bucket over Billy in 2nd grade during recess.
My left knee (or the back of it) thinks I am the devil incarnate. This bruise does not even begin to show the swelling.
I am told eventually I will stop bruising. In the meantime, every Monday night at 9 p.m. you can pretty much guarantee you can find me on the couch packed in ice. Oh, and smelling like Arnica and biofreeze. Husband just looks at me like I’m crazy but secretly I think he likes that I refuse to give in to becoming an old crone. I shall spin and leap until I die, die, die (or at least get the knee hold). I’ll report in when that happens.