I Miss My Toys

During the past few years I've started thinking about the toys I enjoyed as a child. Just reminiscing about some of them makes me feel all fuzzy inside - I really like feeling fuzzy. Two toys in particular were favorites.

The first was my pogo stick. I used to "pogo" all over the place - up and down stairs, across lawns and through neighborhoods. Most people don't believe the stairs part, but I was almost a professional "pogo-er". We had about 8 flights of stairs across the street from my house which took the place of walking up a hill. I easily hopped up those steps to get to the park that was about a mile away. Now that I think about it, I was the only kid I knew who had a pogo stick. Most everyone else rode bikes. I might have been a little slower getting places, but I think I had more fun - and probably more attention.

Because of those fond memories, I started checking on-line to see if they still sold this great means of transportation - and if they had some for (old, out of shape) adults. Yes, I found that they still sold them but they sure didn't look as sturdy as the old ones - and I've grown in height and width but the pogo sticks have not. I mulled over purchasing a pogo stick for months before I finally made an adult decision - based on the fact that my health insurance really isn't very good - and I'd feel a little awkward pogo-ing in front of my neighbors, I decided against buying one. Oh, and I'm old and out of shape.

After a few days of feeling disappointed, I moved on to my other favorite toy.

My hula hoop.

If there were Olympic competitions in both pogo and hula hoops, I would have a hard time choosing - I was an almost professional in both. I decided that the hula hoop was more my speed - and would help me to get fit. I purchased my "hoop" at Walmart (noting to the cashier that my grandchild would enjoy it) and excitedly took it home.

Once home, I checked to make sure there were no neighbors around and then headed directly to my back yard. I slipped the shimmery hoop over my head and down to my waist and gave it a twirl. Even though my hips were flailing like I was being stung in both butt cheeks by a swarm of bees, the hoop went around about 1 1/2 rotations before falling to the ground. It's like riding a bike (or pogo-ing), I thought, I just need practice.

So, for about 2 weeks, I would sneak into my back yard when I heard the neighbors leaving and fling that hoop around and around and down to the ground. I was getting more exercise with my arms than with my hips. I finally decided that they don't make hula hoops like they used to. Surely it didn't have anything to do with the fact that my center of gravity was oozing toward my knees? I just needed a hula hoop that was a little sturdier and had a little more weight to it - like they used to make them.

Another Google search and I found just what I was looking for - a "new generation hoop". It's called a sports hoop and the pictures on the box brought back all of those fun memories of my youth. Everyone was smiling and having a great time. This would be perfect! The hoops came in different sizes and weights, so I ordered the 4 pound beauty.

Within three days my new "hoop" arrived. It came in sections that fit together with little button-like closures - not like what I remembered. But it was pretty because each section was a different color - and it was sturdy. The main difference between this hoop and my old hula hoop (as I remember it) was that this one had ribs running around the inside of the hoop. That was a bit strange.

When I read the directions (really, who needs "directions" to use a hula hoop) for some reason it said that you shouldn't use it for more than 1 - 3 minutes a day for the first week. I figured that those directions were for the novice "hoopers". I was an almost professional.

With great anticipation I put my hoop together and moved my furniture out of the way. I positioned the hoop on my waist and gave it a flip. This time I was able to keep it going and loved every second of it - well loved the first minute of it at least. Then those little "ribs" started causing some irritation every time they circled and landed on any part of my body. By minute two, I was cringing as the hoop continued to orbit my waist. Dang, I must really be out of shape!

I decided that two minutes was plenty for my first day. The next day, I grabbed that brightly colored dream toy and easily started it spinning - and quickly the pain came back. I felt like my waist and hips had been used as a punching bag by a very short boxer. Any midriff contact with anything besides my underwear and loose elastic-waisted sweats was excruciatingly painful. Although moaning "owww" and "yikes" and other four letter words, I did last about 30 seconds.

This is now day three and although I know I'm still almost a professional and I still love my hula hoop, I think I need a short break from the pleasure and pain of my old past time.

Maybe I'll Google "roller skates".