They’re spinning hula hoops and playing dodge ball.
They’re buying themselves Heelys and jumping in bounce houses.
Whether it’s because they’re head-butting the idea that youth ends at 18 — or simply redefining what it means to grow up and rekindle a sense of innocence — an increasing number of adults are gleefully indulging in the age-old joys of being a kid.
“It’s about the pressures of being an adult, and it’s a sense of nostalgia,” said James David Ballard, an associate professor of sociology at California State University, Northridge. “We want to relive the good times. And we can do that through play.”
In adult fitness classes run by Leslie Maltz in Encino, there are no treadmills, Stairmasters or stationary bikes. Instead, the grown-ups are outside climbing knotty trees, having piggyback races and tug-of- war contests in the Backyard Bootcamp classes.
When a gooey mud puddle pooled on the ground one day, students crawled through it on their bellies, Maltz said.
“I think that our lives are so crazy and busy that the nostalgia of being a child again and letting yourself indulge in that is very therapeutic,” Maltz said. “We do so much for our kids.”
At 43, Richard Willand had not scaled a tree since his Army days 20 years ago. But the Van Nuys man hoisted himself up one without hesitation for Maltz’s workout.
His all-time favorite activity in the class? Running around with a parachute.
“As adults we are indoors so much with work,” said Willand, an insurance agent. “But all the outdoor activity reminds me of being a kid. It’s just fun.”
Reaching for a sparkling hula hoop, Jojo Weltsch, 57, recalled the 1960s and her glory days of hula hooping as a teen. Spinning the specially designed 2-pound hoop around her waist, the Sherman Oaks woman threw her hands in the air and said she felt like a 12-year-old again.
“It’s how you think. It’s what you think,” said Weltsch, warming up for Hoopnotica, a Marina del Rey-based hula hoop workout class.
“It’s not about numbers or age.” Standing nearby, Jill Dolan got into the swing of hula hooping again. Seeking off-the-wall workouts, the 37-year-old previously played in an adult kickball league in Studio City.
Wearing blue T-shirts, her kickball team called itself Smurf-ageddon, a reference to the sky-blue characters starring in the 1980s animated TV program.
“We all took up Smurf names,” said the North Hollywood resident. “The team captain was Papa Smurf.”
Meanwhile, others are donning headbands, knee-high sweat socks and tank tops as they gather weekly to pelt one another in league dodge-ball games at the Hollywood Recreation Center to the tunes of Pat Benatar and other old- school bands.
The nostalgia-based, co-ed Los Angeles Dodgeball Society — with 2,500 active members — also hosts eighth- grade dances and old-school, four-square championships.
“It takes you back to a simpler place, where you didn’t have to worry about rent or any of the cares in the world,” said Michael Costanza, who started the club four years ago.
“A time when there was no relationship drama. Even the music we play takes you back.” Sitting on the steps outside the gym waiting for the games to start, Andrew Oldershaw of Hollywood said he daydreams about dodge ball during the day — especially when he’s stuck in traffic.
“I was always OK at sports growing up but was never the best guy on the team,” said the 29-year-old. “But I think as you get older, you get more confident about your skills.”
And as a growing number of adults are tapping into their sense of play, it helps bring about a state of mind that allows them to deal with feelings, said Cynthia A. Henrie, a marriage and family therapist based in northeast Los Angeles.
“It’s a very healthy thing to do,” Henrie said. “It’s fun and silly to tap into your child self — and you release a lot of tension and aggression from the day.” The Jump Around — an indoor inflatable bounce arena for children in Canoga Park — was the site for one 43-year-old woman’s surprise party and for one couple’s 40th wedding anniversary, said owner Charles Luster.
And he said parents tagging along to their kids’ birthday parties often get into the action, as well — from gliding down a 26-foot slide to huffing and puffing over hurdles in a 33-foot obstacle course.
Sometimes the activities draw out the feisty child inside the adults a little too much.
“Everything about our life is so competitive, so it makes sense that people would bring it to their play,” Ballard said.
“They seek the innocence, but they bring the competition to their reality.” Still, having children scampering about gives parents an excuse to participate in kid activities that the childless can’t rely on.
One 41-year-old single man said he was quickly scolded by friends for buying himself a pair of Heelys, athletic shoes with wheels in the sole typically sported by kids.
Ballard said the type of social pressure brought on the man with his set of Heelys is the same that high school students face from their peers.
“You remember in high school how important that whisper factor is — you’re not wearing the right clothes or you don’t have the right handbag,” Ballard said.
“It’s more important now.”
