Well, then what’s your not-so-good version?!

‘Hi, my name is Carl, I’m starting today as the new group-accountant for xyz, my hobbies include: running marathons, alpine skiing, trainingcamps in Lanzarote, crossfit competitions and freediving.’ Uuuh, can I please barf? Look, it might just be the Swedes, but have you noticed these days when people introduce themselves all they talk about is how #fit they are/want to be/pretend to be? Even when they don’t even look fit?! That your lunch dates have been reduced to counting carbs, protein and macros? Hey, all the credits to you for working out and living an active lifestyle! But do we have to splash it all over the internet? And do you really have to give me the stink-eye for eating strawberry cheesecake icecream? I think we’ve entered in the current day competition of: who has the bigger penis?

In a world were it’s all about the number of instagram likes, booty pictures, construction-worker-whistles and how many ab-shots you post, we seem to forget what makes people real(ly likeable). Whatever happened to being smart? a good baker? or have a warm personality? or funny? god I envy people who are naturally funny: it’s like a superpower!

I’m not gonna lie. I’m a sucker for fooddocumentaries (like these and these) and good workout regime. But I’ve noticed lately the quarter-life-crisis is all about ‘the best version of yourself’ and moreover: airing this blatently, without a single grain of salt. It seems to me people take it way too seriously. Whatever happened to going for a stress-lowering run or friendly competition against your bestie? Do we now have to compete with the whole world?

Now, I have to be honest: I spend about 2 to 3 hours in the gym each week (#brag) , mostly due to my manfriend, because #couplesthattraintogetherstaytogether (barf!). No, for real, he’s the backbone I need for regularly working out, otherwise I’d just (pretend to) be running every now and then. The real reason I work out is so I can go to the steamroom and sauna later (aaaah) and just so my manfriend still appreciates my booty looks (too much information), but mostly so I can keep stuffing my face with candy. I even got a FitBit, which I secretly love. But mostly ’cause I’m competing with myself + my dear mom (who’s beating my ass on steps errrday). I’m secretly still hoping I can one day, somewhere, sometime pull it off to run a whole marathon (see what I just did there? #pretendfit) But do I feel the need to spread all my non-existent ab-selfies? Or ass-progression? To which I often wonder: which ass??? It’s like (wo)men’s health has thrown up on every area of life. I can’t deal with it anymore. It’s an overload of flesh. I have stopped following people who only talk/post/breathe bikini selfies.

What I particulairly dislike, is that this whole fit-trend makes #pretendfit people feel they can look down upon #notsofit people. Excuse Me! Like I’m not already the best version of myself?! Do you know who you’re talking to?! I’m Captain Awesome, with all my nerdy, granny and lazy attributes. Just ’cause I don’t parade half naked all the time, does not mean I’m not my bestest version. Conversations about taxes, mortgages, annoying neighbours, the scale of Trump-craziness, even newly borns’ poop cycles are more interesting than your #12reps5sets4rounds talk. The mere fact of a ‘best version’ implies there is a not-so-good or bad version of yourself. And in my book: that can only happen when extreme amounts of alcohol are involved. Newsflash: we’re all less than perfect, that’s what makes life fun. So, I’m fine with you working out, I just don’t need to know about it all the time. Also, I appreciate I can have my cake and eat it too, without your judgement ruining the pleasure!

The other day on a plane I met another one of these #fitboys. Pretty nice guy, super popular on Instagram, addicted to his phone. But even he felt he had the need to say ‘well, I do have a real job’. Like he knows the extreme focus on the exterior is some what totally superficial. So dear Carl from work, do you honestly think I’m gonna like you more because you bring up your Swedish Classic training every chance we get? We need to get these numbers in end of day or else we’re fired, I do not care you’re going to miss your 6th training this week!

So what I’m trying to get to: Next time you introduce yourself, can you please do mankind me a favour and please stick to the regular clichés? Like: I love to eat, dine, drink champagne (you can be my new bestie!), spend time with my kids, xbox, play ridiculous catgame apps, go birdwatching, scrabble, have netflixmarathons… you know, like a regular person. Perhaps then I’ll follow you on Instagram again. And actually listen to what you have to say.

PS. yes I totally overdid it with the brackets. And the hashtags. And yes, I totally posted this picture knowing you would click on it




  1. Definitely a Swedish thing!

    • Hahaha, Danes: too cool for school. Wellicht/waarschijnlijk dat de denen wat meer ‘down to earth’ zijn.

  2. And as usual, I totally love this post! En zo waar, ugh, ik word soms zo moe van al dat gedoe. Vooral op Instagram, kijk hoe hip ik ben/kijk hoe gezond ik eet/kijk hoeveel ik sport/ kijk eens hoe netjes mijn huis is/kijk hoeveel ik weet ik veel wat doe. Rot op zeg, laat me zien hoe je huiskamer er echt uitziet en laat zien dat je boterhammen met pindakaas (niet van een of andere healthy winkel, maar gewoon van de aldi) met hagelslag eet!

    • Heey Karlijn! nou ik dus ook! Vind t een beetje overkill met het hele sportfanatisme (schrijf ik terwijl er net 3 mensen hardlopend en puffed voorbij m’n raam rennen) Mijn beste vriend woont precies tegenover die pindakaas winkel in Amsterdam en ik moest heel hard lachen toen ik het zag!

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