A HULA hoop currently has pride of place in our front room. No, not the edible ones like the pencil-style, weight-lifting sports teacher in the clever ads currently running, but an impressive water-filled plastic one from the days of your childhood.

My wife has taken up the challenge of re-creating those distant times when the object of our affection whipped casually around waists with a little less mileage on them. This has probably got more to do with TV's reality-packed lack of appeal, but she's finally cracked the strange torso jerking movement and, barring hip replacement surgery, can "keep it up" for several revolutions.

A hoop flying at head level for TV watchers and snoozing cats probably breaches Europe's heath & safety laws. Attempts to distract her with Hell's Kitchen (ITV1, Monday) or even UKTV's weekend devoted to The Good Life proved disastrous.

"For an intelligent man you do want to watch some reality rubbish. Why the hell do I want to watch some swearing chefs? And how many more flipping times are they going to show The Good Life? It's been on again and again and again," she ranted, although I suspect that last bit was to help her hula hoop gyrations.

The fact she'd just watched Baliffs (BBC1, Monday) and is hooked on Supernanny (C4, Tuesday) and Little Angels (Thursday, BBC1) at least saves me from having a hard piece of plastic bounced off my forehead.

Best TV of the week - it must be because Supernanny was consigned to a last minute scrabble for a VHS cassette with some spare tape on the end - is the magnificent Hustle (BBC1, Tuesday). A superbly clever plot by writer Howard Overman saw the con team eventually outsmart a vicious and crooked cop played by guest star Fay Ripley. Whether it's casting by political correctness or not, from black con gang boss Adrian Lester as Mickey Stone, to insanely attractive Jaime Murray as Stacie Monroe, to pensioners' pal Robert Vaughan as Albert Stroller, this is an unmissable piece of acting. It's also the rare gem of a good-humoured drama that's not based on a true story or capable of becoming a soap. Perhaps we shouldn't be rooting for a bunch of law-breakers, but the idea of ripping off society's ruthless high-fliers does have that sense of rough justice.

Of course, reality does still bite when it comes to the London Marathon (BBC1/BBC2 Sunday). "So how long do you reckon it would take us to run the marathon," said Mrs Hula, mimicking many minds across the UK as we watched 38,000 starters panting through the streets of the capital. Without the hoop, which might require a little backward movement at times, based on our performance in a North-East 10k (six miles in Olde English measures) the time is likely to be about four-and-a-half hours. If her hoop caught on the back of Tanni Grey Thompson's flying wheelchair who knows?

The sight of Paula Radcliffe's portaloo problems and then second-placed Constantina Tomescu-Dita being sick at the finish might have put off a few armchair athletes. Or had they made the mistake of watching Hell's Kitchen?