It's a rainy Sunday in London, so today's itinerary of lying in the park reading and trying to tan my legs has been washed out. The Buckwell wants to go to an exhibition at the RCA, but I can't be bothered to walk into central London. However I still feel like doing something active. Luckily I bought a hula hoop on Friday. It was £1.
I defy anyone to be in a bad mood while carrying a peppermint-striped hula hoop home from work. Likewise, to be grumpy while hula-hooping, or especially watching someone hula-hoop after a few glasses of wine. The Buckwell has practically been in hysterics over the past 2 days as he watches me try to regain my hula hoop skills of circa 1985.
I have now set myself a mini-mission - to reach 200 revolutions in one hooping session, by the end of the week. I'm averaging about 20 at the moment, so it could be an entertaining week for those neighbours who can see across into our lounge window. (No way am I taking this thing outside.)
Where mission was conceived: Tapley House, in the lounge
Likelihood of success: Do-able, although I may sustain an abdominal strain
Mission deadline: 15 August
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