The girly gym

Some people find male sweat arousing. I’m not one of them. Especially not when the smell of about 20 different men hits you at the same time. Don’t worry, I haven’t tried group sex. I’m talking about my regular (mostly male) gym. My gym without airco, or any other ventilation system. My gym that was slowly, but steadily undermining my motivation to work out (just imagine standing on a tread mill in 24°C, with “I love tons of garlic” on your left, and “no time for morning shower” on your right)
So today, I went to check out the “girly gym”. The gym where no men are allowed. The gym that has airco, a sauna, a hammam, private showers with fancy bath products, hairdryers, and tons of group courses (from Yoga to Zumba). And of course, the gym that will cost me three times more than my old one. But: I think that I’m allowed some luxury at the moment. As of tomorrow, it’s GIRLPOWER :-) !

To end, I'll give you P's reaction:
P : So this gym is full of chickies !!!??
N : Well, yes - that's the point. It's a "Ladies Only".
P : Can I join???
N : ...

The sparkle

If you’ve seen Sex and the City 2, you probably already know what I’m talking about. Carry is scared that she and Mr Big are loosing *the sparkle* in their relationship – especially when Big has declared watching TV on the couch the ultimate romantic experience, and has bought a big flatscreen as an anniversary gift (and not the hoped piece of jewellery).
Somehow (as with all the SATC episodes) all this felt alarmingly familiar. If C and I had nudged each other every time we recognised ourselves during those 120 minutes, we would have walked out with each a blue arm.
Anyhow, *the sparkle*. In an attempt to make my own marriage a bit more glittery and shiny, I invited P today on a real date. We would meet in one of our favourite little restaurants in town, where we used to go a lot when we were still really dating. After work, I even put on some more lipstick and perfume. I was waiting, and there came P. Dead tired from work, hardly able to smile; checking his last mails on his blackberry. We compared our calendars to see when we could go to Amsterdam for a weekend to see some friends. We ate our meal in less than 30 minutes. P went back to work. I came home. No, I’m not exactly swept off my feet.
Candle light dinners (even surprise barbeques!), a new haircut, an entire wardrobe of new lingerie, a little present, miniskirts (yes, I’ve gone that far!), the highest heels in my lifetime, and now a real date.....God knows I’ve tried the past few months. But whatever I do, the new Blackberry and its games always seem to win from me. Solitaire beats pink (and even black) lace. Maybe I should buy bunny ears as my next move, just to emphasize that “the hunt” is never really over – regardless of any piece of jewellery on my hand.

Running

Everybody who’s running is either a) running away from something or b) running towards something. Yes, even if you’re standing on the boring thread mill in the gym, going nowhere. Just admit it.
Speaking for myself, I cannot deny it. Running is escaping.
The first time I ran more than 10 km in less than an hour was on my 30th birthday. I had the feeling that I had achieved nothing, absolutely nothing in my life of those things I wanted to achieve, so I thought: well if I run until I drop today, at least I’ve done that. After an hour, I sat sweating and crying in the changing rooms.
When P decided to do an MBA, again I ran – a lot. If you count all the kilometres, I must’ve run all the way to Fonty and back (and probably more).
Last year, when I lost my job, I felt so relieved, that I effortlessly ran with a smile on my face. Off course, being at home, I also had all the time of the world to run. It felt like I was running towards a new life.
Now, running is again fleeing – at high speed. From a list of things.
So you see: the best is if I don’t run. Because that means I’m perfectly happy with where I am – even if it is with a few kilo’s extra.

5 minute-break

Mom is finally asleep. The last four days have been hell. My dad is exhausted. He has carried her around the house, up and down the stairs, he has washed, fed, dressed her; and yesterday he drove around to get medical help simply because he didn’t know what to do anymore. The nurse is coming again tonight, thank god.
In the mean time, dad is getting a bit of time off, working in the garden, while I keep an eye on her. Throwing up, sweating, cold shivers, fainting, pain, …it hasn’t stopped. Until now; she’s asleep.
She rests, I rest.

The point

I’m sorry – I just haven’t got any inspiration whatsoever. The last few weeks have been...”full”, for lack of any better word. Then finally, two weeks ago: a wonderful long weekend in London. Finally at peace with everything, finally just happy again. It didn’t last long. I got smacked in the face again. Bad news after mom’s scan, and again we’re facing months of chemo, and maybe surgery. I’ve gone from angry, to sad, to numb, to just very very tired.
I can’t help but wondering: is this really what “life” is all about? Is this what every body faces? Battle after battle? Then what the hell is the point of it all?

Hoge Veluwe

For the long ascension weekend, P and I went to the Netherlands – more precisely to the province of Gelderland and the National Park "Hoge Veluwe".It’s the largest nature park in The Netherlands, with wildlife and visitors freely traversing its moors, vast forests, expanses of grassland, and sand drifts. We rented bikes (“When in Rome etc”), and enjoyed the perfect cycling tracks throughout the park and the nearby villages.

We also did some shopping in Arnhem, a very pleasant town, with a city centre that is completely car-free, and we visited the Arnhem Zoo – where our favourite animal was a little hopping kangaroo rat.
And of course, no trip to the Netherlands is complete without some grocery shopping at the AH (Albert Heyn) for such Dutch delicacies as stroopwafels, vla, ontbijtkoek, rookworst, ...

The Hoge Veluwe is only a two-hour drive from Brussels – so if you’re still looking for ideas for the next long weekend, I can highly recommend it!!

Always a woman

Apparently, this ad costs 7 million Euro and is for a British chain called John Lewis (never heard of it). Anyway, Belgian newspapers found it inspiring enough to mention it on their websites, and that is how I discovered this beauty. The clip shows all the phases in a woman’s life, from being born, to becoming a grandmother.
In other words, it shows the perfect picture (apart from the nano-second where we see the family having an argument).
I had a bit of a double feeling after watching it.
Yep, it’s what most women want.
Indeed, it’s what most women do.
It is about life, about giving life, actually.
It’s a dream unfolding before my eyes.
But, a little but. It’s actually the very same thing as all those perfect, photoshopped models. When you don’t have a size 6, you can get pretty frustrated by just looking at them – get my point ?