This fall I have taken a giant leap out of character. Brace yourself well and properly! I have started WORKING OUT!

There are a few reasons why I made this revolutionary decision. After having worked in shops (and as a teacher) for years, I realized I got a lot of free exercise from walking around all day (obviously, you might say). Thus, starting an office job for the very first time, my general crappy shape has crapped itself even further. A few years ago I was able to play an hour of squash without losing my breath and having to stop. My biggest issue was being the worst loser the world has ever seen – and being nicknamed John McEnroe. I never thought I’d say this, but when, half-game, I discovered I was so ruined I couldn’t even pronounce my usual fucks, I missed my nickname.

Me after 5 minutes of exercise

The results

The advantages of never really having worked out are that you really feel your body reacting – the reaction being somewhere between Oh my, thank you for finally taking care of me and Good Lord in Heaven, what is this discomfort, whatcha doing to me, you masochist punk?!

It hurts the pride of my lazy ass to admit it, but it does feel good to notice that one’s shape is improving. That said, the soreness of muscles I honestly did not know that I had, is not to be underestimated. But at least you know it’s working, right?

Yeah, pretty much

The lies

I have never believed in the training gurus who tell you that regular working out makes you addicted. But, having done three times a week at my best, I thought my attitude towards movement would, for the very least, change slightly for the better.

I was wrong. I still fucking hate it. It hurts, and whoever says otherwise is lying.

Unfit, but cute. Just kidding, only unfit

So, now what?

I have not felt much body-related difference after 5 months, but there is one thing I would like to emphasize. We women all have what I have come to call a fat day. This does not mean that we wake up fat in the morning – it’s mental fatness that no one but ourselves can spot. Having a fat day and not having done shit about it, feels like crap. Having a fat day, but having gone to the gym, makes it a little better. Not to mention the joys of eating and feeling like you’re just evening out what you already lost, and that you deserve it.

To be continued…

True story

Cultural differences are interesting to get to know, and appear in the strangest of forms – often on subjects where one has not even considered the possibility of their existence. It is usually mostly entertaining, somewhat educational, and – I will not lie – at times slightly annoying. Anyhow, it’s worth writing about, and I hereby declare that the following observations are based on the Spanish and Norwegian individuals of my own life, and might be totally wrong for the rest of the countries’ populations, but I tend to think they can be applied to the greater majority. Prior to further reading: Brace yourself for stereotypes, generalizations and (although I hate to admit it) exaggerations.

Watching TV while having dinner

Norway: The taboo among dinner customs – mostly considered the practice of dysfunctional families that don’t care for actual communication. Apathetic faces staring blankly at some kind of useless sitcom or TV-shop woman selling a vacuum cleaner, while not noticing that grandma died in her chair an hour ago. In reality, most people dine in front of the TV from time to time, but they DO NOT tell anyone, due to the shame and social stigma following such a reputation.

Spain: The TV is on most of the time, also whilst consuming one of the many meals during a day in the life of the average Spaniard. Another family member might be watching a YouTube video, and a third one may be checking out a song on Spotify. No one uses headphones or turns down the volume, and no one stops the five conversations that are going on across the room at the same time. Watching TV while eating in Spain is not anti-social, and it does not mean that you don’t enjoy conversing with your family members. Spaniards are world champions in multitasking and seem to think that no activity excludes another.

Sleeping with the window open

Norway: Ah, fresh breeze from the window, all year round. Thick duvets all the way up to the chin, winter temperatures in the room, slippers ready by the chunky carpet on the floor. No headaches, no old air (as we like to put it), cold nose but a really, really warm body. And the comforting sound of rain or wind slowly lulling you to sleep.

Spain: For PUTA’s sake, do not open the window – are you LOCO? Turn on the heat, make sure the vents are closed, the fan is off, and that #noairwhatsoever is let in. If there is a tiny breeze from like, your cat sighing, we will get sick. We will get a cold, sniffy noses, sore throats and probably flu, aids and rabies. And we will not be subtle about it. We will complain, and we will let you know every five seconds that YOU ARE TO BLAME.

Bringing kids into bars

Norway: The first sign of real child abuse. Call teachers, neighbors, the police, social services and the pope. This child is being neglected by every single family member, and it is plausible to conclude with both violence and general psychological torture, all to be blamed on the occasional beer within the presence of ~a child~. All future offsprings will be automatically aborted by the prime minister personally.

Spain: A bar is a social place, where a drunk fellow may or may not appear. Anyhow, your kids will not really notice, nor be frightened by them, considering that present parents won’t treat mentioned drunk people as something shameful nor dangerous. Most people, however, will have a couple of cañas and some tapas, while having their kids run around just like in the average Starbucks. Parents ideally don’t drink enough to get affected by it, and kids are usually having fun with other kids, while their folks earn a well-deserved break from everyday life. All are happy.

Doing stuff

Norway: Let whoever doing something, do it in peace and quiet. Leave the person undisturbed until the task is finished, unless there is something really obvious you can do to help. When in doubt, just ask, but prepare to have your offer to help rejected.

Spain: Your husband, your mother-in-law, her father’s third cousin’s long-lost nephew and his dog are coming with you to do whichever task you have before you. They will tell you how to do it, maybe try to do it for you, or discuss the best way to execute the task. Sometimes while staring at you and standing way too close for you to do what you need to do properly.

The concept of NOW

Norway: Being ready to leave NOW means that you’re standing fully dressed by the door with the keys in your hand. NOW describes the moment of something happening instantly, mostly within seconds, with the exception of the real-time (HAHA) signs belonging to the public transport system. Those were probably made by Spanish workers and auctioned away with Norway as the only bidder.

Spain: NOW is relative. NOW can mean right away or within some hours. You can be waking up from your siesta, lying naked in bed, looking like an earthquake, and telling your hubby you are ready to go NOW, meaning that you will be ready an hour later. Ironically the public transport system is actually reliable, but after the one-minute limit has passed, the real-time sign goes to zero minutes. Otherwise, no one would know when the transport is actually coming, obviously. Spanish readiness is just way less ready than Norwegian readiness.

Aesthetics

Norway: A scratch on your car must be fixed immediately. Any respectable citizen will renew the kitchen every tenth year or so. Clothes with tiny holes or stains are simply unusable (Trust me, I worked in retail for eight years).

Spain: In Madrid, people actually calculate distances by slightly bumping into the cars in front and behind when parallel parking. Cars get scratches, and nobody cares as long as they still run. Regarding appearances, it is easy to assume that the good people of Spain can be compared with their stylish fellow southern Europeans in France and Italy, but nothing could be further from the truth. Most Spaniards are naturally attractive and charming, but they are also totally chill and casual, and everything but snobbish.

Rules

Norway: Rules are made to be followed! Five hundred grams overweight when you check in your luggage at the airport means that you pay – not for four hundred and ninety-nine, not for five hundred and one – but for five. hundred. grams. Norwegians like equality, and therefore rarely make exceptions from the rules. They also rarely question the rules, if said rules are made by higher forces (meaning the government, not Jesus C.™)

Spain: If you enter a bar that says restrooms are only for paying customers, you might very likely still get to use it if you ask nicely. Also, getting minor services on, let’s say, your car, doesn’t necessarily have to cost you a single eurocent. If the car repairman doesn’t feel like he has really made an effort to solve your problem, he might just say hasta luego (baby) and leave, while you, having the role of the confused foreigner, are left with your credit card ready, not knowing whether to feel relieved or uncomfortable. No wonder the country has had some economic issues when they insist on working for free. Spaniards are the mere opposite of square, and their relaxed attitude has them bending the rules all the time, especially if the rules imply more work. That is also why the airport employees won’t even charge you for five kilos overweight.

How the day works

Norway: It is almost socially frowned upon to have a job that does not take place between the hours of eight and four. At five, people have dinner, and most of these workers go to bed before eleven, after having put their kids to bed at eight.

Spain: People generally work later, not to mention have dinner no earlier than ten. Before that, they have what they call lunch, which is basically the first dinner of the day. The lucky and/or traditional ones also sleep the famous siesta after dinner number one, and people (including children) go to bed way after the majority of Norwegians are already asleep. It’s like the whole day has been moved three hours ahead – like the primal Spaniards overslept and their descendants never managed to catch up.

Greeting

Norwegian: No one is introducing me. Maybe I just say hola. If I’m in a good mood, I’ll wave from afar.
Spaniard: No one is introducing me. Better take matters into my own hands.
Norwegian: Oh-oh, Spanish stranger approaching. What does he/she want?
Spaniard: Why is this person reversing like a car?
Norwegian: Fine, I’ll do a handshake.
Spaniard: Handshake? What are we, politicians? (Damn politicians de mierda) Come here, amigo!
Norwegian: Why is his/her face approaching mine? What are you –? What? No. No! NOOOOO
Spaniard: That was a good kiss! Now let’s do the other side.
Norwegian: Now what? I thought that was it!
Spaniard: Good thing I didn’t let go of that hand. Better pull. Ngh –
Norwegian: You gotta be kidding me!
Spaniard: There! My work is done.
Norwegian: This trauma will forever haunt my soul.

(Play this inner dialogue in very fast motion to know exactly what happens when a Norwegian and a Spaniard meet for the first time)

Conclusion

Norway Pros:
• Being on time, and actually knowing when people arrive.
• Being left alone when you need to.
• Getting to sleep without sweating through your sheets.
• Routines and rules.

Norway Cons:
• Hysterical and slightly judgemental attitude towards people doing things differently.
• Being left alone when you actually do need help.
• Living in a society that basically discriminates against everyone who is not an early bird.

Spain Pros:
• Being a part of a very inclusive society, without even trying.
• Not stressing about anything, – no pasa nada! (nothing will happen!) is a very comfortable life motto.
• Having the opportunity to live life as a night owl.
• A life dominated by variation and adaptiveness.

Spain Cons:
• No one is ever on time. On the bright side, that means you don’t have to either.
• Not being given much space when you need it.
• Having your car scratched more frequently.

I guess the pros and cons mostly depend on how one is wired, but I tried to be as objective as possible. That said, I know where I belong.

I love sloths. Not only are they adorable, quirky little fellas, but they’re also my spirit animal. Sometimes I consider myself a sloth born in a human body. Can I put that in my passport?

I was born lazy. I hated going hiking in kindergarten, but loved to sit quietly inside, drawing pictures. Preferably on a couch. The day my parents put away my stroller, I recall not understanding why they would do that to me; making me walk when I had a perfectly fine vehicle where I could relax while enjoying the outside. Little did I know that the societal pressure to move oneself only gets worse with age.

My husband has spent the last nine years trying to get me to do sports, with very little success. My laziness is unbeatable, chronic, and definitely a very dominant part of my whole being. I consider working out masochism, and the gym a foul place where evil flourishes.

So, maybe I’ll die in my thirties, or maybe I’ll live to a hundred, having the heart of a newborn baby. It is actually considered one of nature’s great mysteries that I’m not the size of a whale. (Although on some days, I do feel like a small whale. A sperm whale?)

It would probably be a good thing to point out that I’m not talking about general activities. I’m quite active, mostly working with my hobbies, and my job (whichever job I’m working at) is really important to me. I’m talking about physical movement, and on the other side of the scale, the beauty of relaxation.

To share my insight, here comes a small presentation on how to lazy like a self-declared pro like me.

• If you live in a city, – memorize all the metro, bus and tram lines. These can help you get from one place to another with minimum effort. Always work against it when the city decides to change a line, as this easily can result in planning errors that again can result in having to walk places.

• If you have regular stops where you get on and off, always get in on the end of the vehicle that takes you closer to your final destination. Meters saved are never to be underestimated.

• If you like me have heard people say that one hour of working out prolongs your life with one hour, ask yourself this question; do you want to live that hour now, when you’re young, or when you’re old, weak and possibly senile?

• When needing to buy something, always go to the nearest location. Do not ever walk further to find a grocery store instead of a kiosk; the extra money you might end up spending is a small price to pay for not having to move more than absolutely necessary.

• Take escalators and elevators. If you’re claustrophobic, consider it therapy. I used to dislike elevators myself until I realized that my laziness totally beats my fear.

• Always shower at night, so you can sleep longer in the morning. I would tell you to make your outfit ready too, but because my body sometimes feels like a gift from God, and other times like a ball of fat, I cannot do so myself.

• Marry someone with a driver’s license and a car, but do not ever take your own license. This way you can remain a happy passenger, always enjoying a glass (or bottle) of wine, before napping while being transported around by your spouse.

• Have cats. Cats are lazy and sleepy creatures that will support your way of life. Sloths will also work, but I tend to recommend cats for obvious reasons.

• Get an injury. Injuries make great excuses not to move. When I was sixteen a girl in my class had a back operation and legally skipped gym class for a year. I was so jealous. Damn you, healthy body!

• If you are blessed with a meaty ass like I am, sit on it. That’s what it’s for. A meaty ass provides a comfortable cushion on whichever hard surface you need to rest upon.

• If you really need to do sports (y tho?), find one that appeals to your lazy side. Like biking; you sit while you’re working out. Or yoga, lying down half of the workout session. It’s on the borderline, but I can accept it.

• But preferably, devote yourself to activities that require you to sit down. Like drawing, writing, or something else where no one will question why you’re not moving.

• Never ever go to the mountain.

And lastly, never hide your laziness, celebrate it!

As a bonus, I will reveal that although I am a complete disaster at most sports, there is one I’m actually ridiculously good at. Ping pong.