Why May will get fat

Our editorial team is divided into two camps. The fairly healthy girls (Jet and Jos, also known as Jes and Jot) who exercise (well, one a bit more enthusiastically than the other) and take it a bit easy with alcoholic beverages.

Then there’s Lies and me who really try to exercise quite often but who find it just impossible due to the outside world. That’s how Lies started with BBB (no, that’s not butt, belly, and legs from back in the day); a workout where you do exercises in a cabin of sixty degrees. A friend of ours became incredibly fit thanks to this invention on her wedding day so this had to be it. Half an hour and then three times a week. That should work and this became it completely. Lies immediately ordered the most expensive subscription and prepared us for a new Liesbeth.

While writing this piece, I ask Lies how she is doing with her new, healthy, sporty BBB life. There’s a long silence and her answer starts with a serious stutter. “D-do you know what it is, May? In the morning it’s just too early and after work it’s just, well... too uh, too wine.’

Then I suddenly saw a gym around the corner from me. It had been there for years, but now I suddenly noticed it.

I decided half a year ago that ballet was my sport and immediately paid, hatsekiedee, for the whole season. Money doesn’t matter when it comes to your body. I have been there exactly four times, because I was placed in the advanced group due to a distant and enthusiastic past (back then, yes…) but I would only keep that up if I followed the same class at least twice a week. And I just have too many evening parties for that. I was at the final performance of the ballet school because my daughter dutifully attended her classes every week and my teacher didn’t even recognize me anymore.

Then I suddenly saw a gym around the corner from me. It had been there for years, but now I suddenly noticed it. I bought a monthly subscription and immediately went three times in a row. They had morning classes so I could dive into the grapevine right after I dropped my girls off at school. I had found my new rhythm. During my stay abroad for Holland’s Next Top Model, I even bought Nikes and would immediately continue my good life in the Netherlands.

Until I opened my email at the airport. Message from the gym. I thought it was probably a summer promotion. “Dear May-Britt, unfortunately we must close our gym immediately. Thank you for all the years of sports enjoyment. The management.”

I immediately screenshot it and threw it on the Amayzine WhatsApp .

Poor Jet, she was so proud that she had finally managed to get us to exercise.

But I really did my best. And Liesbeth too. It wasn’t our fault.