I’ve been hooping for six years, spinning a hoop around my body so I can burn calories, tone muscles and occasionally, get lost in myself. I try to hoop two to three times a week, and usually with a combination of different hoops. I have quite the collection. JaMocha is my main hoop and Junior like a sidekick. When I want an arm workout I lift AquaBlue, a small 30 inch hoop that I filled with water to make heavy. The Twins are identical except one is purple and one is white. They are thin and strong and move like nunchakus and weigh as much as a feather. If I’m feeling especially lazy, if I wanna rock in my hoop like a Sunday morning drive, Betsy and Cadillac are always happy to take me for a spin. I hang these big gals from the ceiling above my bed, and I’ve promised like an old timer who parks rusted cars in barns that I will never get rid of them. Betsy is 52 inches, wrapped in the same maroon tape as JaMocha and Junior. She hangs inside Cadillac who is a huge 64 incher. There are more wrinkles in her tape-job than any other hoop.
Every night, I fall asleep looking into Cadillac’s center, realizing my body lies in her middle, like I separate her yin and yang, but maybe she separates mine, I’m not sure. I am sure in what goes around comes around, action and reaction, cause and effect, a push and pull. When I close my eyes, sometimes I think I understand the world through light and dark and time and force, through the movement of the hoop with me as its axis. I am the sun and the hoop my moon and earth.