If you’re expecting a very long read about why I hate sports, you are more than correct. I can never fit my hate for working out in one sentence, let alone a title. No, the hate for sports is so deep-seated, that I am using my space on the HUB to let it all out, for all of you to enjoy.

It all started when I was a kid. All my friends were in this dancing class, and I can tell you the FOMO started young. I wanted to hang out with them, and not be the outsider. Though, it was the biggest mistake of mini-me’s life (I mean, I was five). I was always late, never got the roles I wanted for performances (I am still mad at not being Jane in Tarzan and Jane) AND, my Lord, I hated dressing up in these weird outfits.

But that’s not all. I always dreamt of horse-riding, like every other basic bitch. So, when I turned nine, I got lessons for my birthday. I thought my life couldn’t get better, I was so happy… until my horse kicked me off his back four times in half an hour. This was the first time I ever ate dirt. Though, I stayed strong, yelled at my mom every time we had to go back to the stables, fell a lot more times and then eventually quit when I went to university.

From that moment on I never really worked out anymore. I would see drinking as many beers as I could on a special beer night as a sport, only to regret it the morning after. Sometimes, I would get all motivated to go for a run. Also, only to regret it the morning after. Then, at some point I decided to get a BRESS membership with my friend. But that always ended up in us not going and eat cheap ice cream from the LIDL, that didn’t taste that well. Though, it was better than being sore.

The moral of this story... There is none. I just hate working out. I only wear sport leggings to go to the supermarket when I’m hung over, and the boxing gloves that I got for Christmas function as a nice decoration in the corner of my closet.