In high school I was really into track. I mostly did endurance, but had a passionate love affair with hurdles. I wasn’t the greatest hurdler but I wanted it so badly! I trained hard and entered every race possible. It amazed me that 200m of hurdles winded me more than 1500m or 3000m of straight running. There was something alluring about hurdles; you had to work so hard but it always felt fucking great. Getting over each hurdle was an accomplishment, but there was always the fear that you would clip it with your foot as you went over, run into it, or simply not have enough energy to push yourself off the ground. All these little factors made the race more intense and therefore much more rewarding in crossing the finish line.
Hoop jumping is to life what hurdles are to races. Hoops are obstacles purposely put in one’s way in order to make the end result a bit more challenging. While they can be exhausting at times, they tend to make life more exciting. I’m more than willing to jump through hoops when something is worth it. Examples: I’ll work out an extra 30 minutes so I can eat some ice cream guilt free, I’ll play the politics game in my career, I’ll go to the family dinner to appease my parents. Each hoop is worth it because the end result will benefit ME!
Jumping through hoops for my body, job, and relationships are worth it. Where I refuse to jump (through hoops or on command) is for a man. I don’t care what’s on the other side: if he wants me to jump through hoops he’s going to find himself standing awkwardly alone while holding a hula-hoop.
By now my feelings about “games” have likely become clear: I can’t stand them. I don’t know how to play games, which is possibly why they infuriate me. Hoop jumping is game playing. Hoops are premeditated hurdles. Essentially, he is setting you up to fail and fall flat on your face. Fuck that and fuck you! I have far too many things to do with my precious time than to prance around your delusional world.
Obviously, girls make guys jump through hoops too. All in all, though, I think guys are better at doing it, subtler. They do it in a manner that doesn’t look like they are doing anything. In this way, they can turn around and play the “Woah, you’re crazy” card if things get out of hand.
p.s. I lied, I wouldn’t really work out for an extra 30 minutes… I’d just eat the ice cream!
