Cycling in the ACT, not typically Dutch

When we moved to the ACT in February 2014 we were sure that we should bring our bikes because everywhere we looked, cycling seemed to be the way to get around. Soon after we settled in, the missus gave up cycling altogether and I was ‘thinking about it’. Why you ask? Well, all the promotion that the Visit Canberra office does is true and fact based, there are bike paths, you can quite literally go anywhere by bike if you have the energy for it and yes it is fun and a good way to stay in shape, but it is not quite the same experience as in the Netherlands, so think twice before you decide to bring your bike to only have it gather dust in your garage or storage space.

Define…. bike path

The Dutch bike paths are mostly well maintained, connect logically, are separated from car traffic and generally well lit. In my experience, the most cycle paths that are not in the city and not around Lake Burley Griffin show strong similarities to asphalt that just had a squadron of rampaging out of control Abrams tanks do donuts and burn-outs for 15 minutes before moving on with their business. The terms gravelly and tire puncture waiting to happen’’ come to mind. Then, remember that Australia is a really big country and things are far apart and there’s literally nothing but shrubs, trees and wild life in between. Oh and did I mention that you’re on the road with the cars with no separation? Try to imagine that on the A15 going into the Benelux tunnel. Scared yet?

Without the tanks, obviously!

I am NOT wearing that!

Yes you are. Unless you want to pay a huge fine, you will wear that helmet and maybe even make sure your lights work and then you might still consider a reflective vest because motorists, especially just-out-of-bed-got-my-mind-on-other-things motorists are not looking out for you and that helmet with adornments, your reflective vest and blinking light will at least tell the police where your body has landed after you’ve been hit by someone who should not have gotten a license to begin with.

And yes, you look like a dick, but I am sure you’ll appreciate it when you land headfirst and do not suffer massive brain damage.

I am so getting that bottom right one!

That’s not an incline, THIS is an incline

I am fortunate enough to have a very fancy 24 gear bike and while I like to challenge myself a bit every now and then, cycling in the ACT (or anywhere else in Oz for that matter) can be a bit of a vertical challenge. They say hill, I say K2 mountain, nut hey same difference! When you’re used to the Dutch flatlands, biking the Aussie landscape can be intimidating if not downright scary. I mean, going up a hill at 7-10% at 10km/hr can easily mean that you’ll be able to go down that same hill at 65km/hr. I did both and can tell you that the 65km/hr has my preference. In the ACT you’re either riding up a hill or going down one, even when you think you’re not. As soon as you find yourself downshifting a lot, you know you’re in for a treat on the way down.

Road outside our house...somewhere in Australia (still outside my house)

Obstacle course anyone?

In the Netherlands, most local governments actually make an effort to sweep the paths every now and then and community service projects make sure that littering stays within limits. In the ACT, not so much, but if you are open to new experiences, there’s a new one every few 100 meters. There’s the always creepy lonely shoes or toddler flip-flops, paint/oil spills, bricks, sheet metal, underwear (I kid you not), steel pipes, abandoned cars and parts, various types of roadkill and for some inexplicable reason a complete bedroom and sofa. Okay, those where right next to the path but you get the idea. The roadkill situation is also quite different in the Netherlands and a whole new aromatic experience when you happen to cycle downwind, but cannot avoid it in time and actually hit it. Yikes.

Oh, okay then....

‘Sharing’ the road

A strange thing happens to Australians, or maybe just Canberrans, as soon as they enter a 4-wheeled vehicle and close the doors. They become everything an average Australian is not; rude, impatient, pushy, territorial, unforgiving and a danger to themselves and others. In the Netherlands I did some pretty stupid things while riding a bike, including riding into a tree that was just standing there minding its own tree business but I never felt so unsafe as on the ACT bike paths.

Despite the ‘share the road’ campaigns, there must be something highly offensive about a cyclist having the nerve to actually use that same piece of asphalt. It is a level of resentment that astounds me. I mean, I get that some people would do well not to put on riding gear that really leaves nothing to the imagination, but it seems a bit harsh to push them off the road for just that, I mean, 1 second and you’re past them.

Yep, ready to roll

Mind you, I drive a car, I pay taxes for that piece of asphalt some claim to have bought with their yearly rego contribution, I just happen to ride a bike every now and then. I sometimes wonder if people actually realise you can see them and how they behave and also if they realise what would happen if they actually hit you at 50km/hr. Imagine 1,500 kilo’s of steel meeting 15 kg of aluminium and a human being…If not for the jail time for accidental death, just think about the bill of getting the dents out of your beloved Ford Falcon, replacing the windshield and redoing the paint job, that shit’s expensive bro!

Chuck, the patron saint of all indignant cyclists

 So why bother at all then eh?!

There’s something strangely meditative about powering on with nothing but your own body doing the work, the smells of a new morning (Is that a dead kangaroo? Yikes!), total darkness, the stars fading, the sun coming up and the peace and quiet. Also, the ACT bike paths are pretty much deserted during the day (and at 04:00 in the morning, but only crazy people cycle then, so best not go then) and really early in the day you can feel like you’re the last person on the planet. That’s a bit harder in the Netherlands. Some of the best views of the city and the land are free to enjoy if you get out there and wake up with the kangaroos.

This morning, not too bad huh?!

Stay safe and for goodness sake, keep to the left!

Post Op Update (18 hours later)

For everyone just coming to look at my nudie pics, they are at the bottom of the post, so skip all the writing to get to the (good) bits.

There is really no comparison between the two operations and instead of writing a whole story, I thought to put the whole experience in a very handy table.

The day went a bit like this. You stop eating at 7.30, then stop drinking (not just alcohol, everything) at 10.30 and leave at 11.30 to take the bus for 1hr 45 min to travel 30 kilometers with a free tour of the whole of the ACT. Oh well, it rained when I got on, the sun was out when I got out at 13.20, small things in life and all!

Sooo getting me one of these!

Arriving at the clinic I did what I always do, wait 45 minutes and speak to everyone at 5 minute intervals and then the party starts. First you speak to one nurse, then another nurse who sees if you lied to the previous nurse, then the anesthesiologist (yep, looked that word up) who is the guy who put you to sleep and wakes you up if you're lucky and then you speak to the doctor who will do the cutting, but first.... he breaks out his magic marker and uses you for a whiteboard and goes places with that marker that no one should be comfortable with. Ever. But then again, he's about to cut you up, so I just giggled like a 3 year old (it tickles, hihihihi) and let him ravage me.

When they introduced themselves as the medical team, I started to worry

You then sit around some more and at about 14.30 you're ushered into theater and met by 5 people who are only recognizable by their eyes who are way to cheerful while handling sharp objects if you ask me. I hesitated when they asked me to lie face down on those 5 pillows on the operating table, but hey in for a penny, in for a pound I thought and then sleep guy makes small talk and before you know it you wake up at 18.30 and wonder where the heck you are. 

Then everybody comes in again and starts asking me how I am feeling, to which my answer was, what time is it, I feel rested, don'have to pee, pain scale is 2, just Panadol please, did someone call my wife and can I get a cheese and tomato toastie with a coke zero, which made the nurse chuckle. 90 minutes later Yuum was taking me home.

Well, at least it was free.

@home everything went much easier as expected, had more food, went for a 1km/hr run around the block (I should have Runkeepered it!) with Yuum and kept my cool until 01.00 before turning in. Sleeping was just fine, but me being me, very much done by 04.00am, which gave me plenty of time to catch up with the world, talk to the cats and troll Facebook and LinkedIn.

Two weeks from now the stitches come out, that should be fun. And for anyone wondering, I actually gained weight during the operation. Went in at 95.7, they took about 1,5 liter of fluid and fat and this morning I weighed 95.8. Well done!

And now for the pictures from this morning

Lipo holes, marker and blood and back pack straps (don't ask, I don't know)

The left side, the blood is old, no worries

Right side, same thing

Not sure about this dent, apparently it's normal

Stay to the left

Gil

Operation Belly Buster Part Deux - The September Edition

5 months ago I had my first surgery ever (frontal lobotomies do not count!) and I could not be more happy with the result. My scar has healed nicely, I have a whole new and improved belly button and it just does not get old to not only feel my abs, but actually see them.

Not exactly like this, but sort of where he's pointing

So today is part two, a month earlier than usual for these procedures, but in the famous words of Britney:  “That is just so typically me” and I am sure it helped that I was so well behaved as a patient that the good doctor agreed to get me in early and be nearly recovered by the time mom and dad come over in October to celebrate their 25^th wedding anniversary. Not that we’ll be doing any bungy jumping or adventure sports (let’s not spoil the surprise just yet), but bleeding all over the furniture seems to upset other diners in restaurants or so I’ve been told.

Hey, it got me this far!

I’ve scanned the below images to give you an impression of where I am coming from. Mind you, this was 8-14 years ago, I’ve been fairly stable since 2010, but just this morning I was leafing through some of the diet logs I kept and there’s about a 12 kilo bandwidth that I seem to go through. 86 in 2010, 93 in 2012, 97 in 2014 and 90 in March 2015, but today it’s 95 again and the operation will only take 1 kilo of that so I've got some work to do.

2000 and 140kg (I think...)

Somewhere in Greece, must be Corfu 2005

Another glorious Corfu Moment in 2005

London 2005

Paris 2006?

Turkey 2004

Poortugaal 2010

Did anyone notice that Yumi basically still looks the same? Damn her!

I think it’s time for a new challenge. Last week I blogged that I am serious about giving away 10% of my first year earnings to charity, I think I’ll match that with reducing my own presence on this planet with an equal 10% and what better way than have 160+ people looking on while I attempt it. I’ll give myself 4 months to drop 9 kilos. Done it before, should be able to do it again, if anybody has an appropriate ‘punishment’ for not making that number, do send me a message and I’ll put it to a vote.

Remember, I said APPROPRIATE....

86 kg by 1-1-2016, has a nice ring to it and with 1850 calories a day, my 15 years of diet experience and with all the running, cycling, kendo, walking and weight lifting, that should be achievable. 

Challenge accepted!

18 Months later

The reason for my blog being so quiet is that it’s been a while since something truly exciting happened and I noticed that I’ve been relying on Facebook a lot to keep people up to date on our life in the ACT, but maybe if I pile it all together it’s still worth a read to some. We still think that our lives are blessed, happy and quite entertaining, but nothing to write home about, but we’ll give the people what the people want!

Winter is coming, ehm, it is here, aaaaand it’s gone!

The weather is always a safe topic to start with and the coldest winter in eight years seems worth mentioning. I will still take these winters over the Ducth ones, because instead of it staying 20 below freezing, dark or rainy all day, it actually warms up to 10-15 degrees most days with clear skies and no Siberian chill winds. The nights go down to -8 and that’s nothing to sneeze at (wink). I actually bought a winter coat, gloves, a beanie (muts) and a scarf this year. Give it another 2 years and I’ll be complaining about winter like a true Aussie from when summer ends until mid-spring. Another thing to remember is that by the end of winter the swooping bird season commences. It’s basically birds defending their new nests by almost flying into you, harassing bikers and people out for a walk (like me). Once you get used it it’s like driving in Paris, they don’t hit you, but man they come close.

  

A typical winter day in the ACT

Visitors coming and going

Hester visited in April and Just visited in May and that allowed us to visit and show off some of our favourite spots, spend a lot of time with some of our favourite people and hear a lot about the benefits of parenthood J. It was a small price to pay to have them both over for a week. Yumi and Hester travelled all over the place, went diving, which was not too great, but the drive to the coast is an attraction in itself, saw heaps of kangaroos and visited Melbourne for a day. Just and I didn’t do too bad ourselves, climbed some rocks, saw more heaps of kangaroos, almost made it to the highest mountaintop of Australia (too much snow and a serious risk of killing ourselves) and more ACT highlights than you can swing a stick at. We marched no less than 100,000 steps in a week and we planned to go to Melbourne, but then fog happened and planes did not fly, so we got to go to the science museum and stuff our faces with all sorts of yumminess instead. I mean, we walked about 80 kilometres and I lost exactly 0.00000 kg of weight. Well done!

Sooooo, getting one off these, I mean, looks legit right?

Operation #2

It’s been almost 5 months since operation Bellybuster and with the Kruidenier parents coming over to celebrate their 25 year marriage anniversary by 3 October we thought it best to have it out of the way before then. It’s much less invasive this time, just day surgery on the 3^rd of September, another 30 cm added to the 70 cm scar, bye bye wing flaps and I’ll finally be able to wear that latex cat suit I’ve been dreaming of for years. I am still very happy with the results of operation #1 and while I have no six pack just yet and my belly region feels like I’ve borrowed someone else’s skin, it’s still a great feeling to experience every day.

Damn you auto correct! I meant a cat in a latex suit. And no, I do not care to explain.

Work stuff

As you might have heard I’ve quit my job with ACT Shared Services to start my own business in Change Improvement and coaching (www.kruidenierconsulting.com.au). The best job I’ve ever quit but the pace of government was getting to me. So now I am my own boss and we’ll see how it goes. Of course we did the numbers and even if I make no money at all ever, we’ll get by, so don’t worry about us, we’ll be fine. I’ll get to practice my patience skills. As usual, Yumi is acing everything like a pro, no surprises there and she’s now even being asked to speak on conferences across the country (16/1-Melbourne) about the Buurtzorg (neighbourhood care) model. Too funny, but I am very proud of her. Of course I am only saying that because she’s the one making all the money right now and even a vegetarian man’s gotta eat.

  

Changing lives, sure, just two more laps

Volunteering for fun

Yumi started volunteering for lifecycle (http://www.life-cycle.org.au/) getting involved in the regional ride part of things and I sort of tag along. It’s a lot of fun to get involved with all these people who are so committed to a cause and as we have some experience in the area of blood cancers, it feel like we’re doing a good thing, even if it means selling sausages to raise funds. I’ve also started volunteering for Red Cross Mates, which means that I spent 1-2 hours a week with a senior citizen to make sure they don’t become too lonely. My mate is Marlis, 81 years old and originally from Germany. She’s still very young at heart, has a dog, misses her husband of 45 years (he passed away 4 years ago) and has the best collection of German schlager music in the ACT for sure. It’s 50 cds so once I’ve heard them all, I’ll report back.

Those are electric drums, what is that guy even doing?

Sports

I still missed kung fu something fierce, kept looking for a martial arts contact sport, considered MMA, but when I mentioned to Yumi that I was thinking of doing an introductory course Kendo (http://www.anukendo.org/) she “completely surprised me by saying “I’ll go with you!” We’ve just had a fourth lesson and bought our own practice swords (bamboo shinai) and it looks like we’ll stay with it. It’s much more fun than hanging around the house on a Tuesday and we’ll get body armor and get to hit each other over the head a lot. What more could we ask for?!

Yuum and me in 6 months from now

One thing we will NOT be seen doing together is cycling. Then again, Yumi never claimed to be Dutch to begin with. I started running a couple of months ago, but about a month back I developed such a violent cough that running in early morning frost seemed like a bad idea, so instead I started cycling, which allows for warmer gear and can be combined with going places without the arriving sweaty and out of breath. Now I cycle everywhere during weekdays instead of taking the bus which takes less time and gives me a nice workout. Sometimes I imagine I am Cadel Evans, most of the time I just gasp for breath going uphill at 8.5km/h and woop from joy shooting downhill at 55km/h.

Well done Bus Company, no wonder people hate public transport

  

I hope that gives everyone an impression of our not so exciting, but quite entertaining lives.

Keep to the left and stay safe

Scarred, bruised and happy

WARNING: There are (graphic, but sorry no nude) pictures further down. If you always thought I looked like a god and want to keep that image in your mind. DO NOT SCROLL DOWN BEYOND THE IMAGE OF THE HEDGEHOG.

A week has gone by and I haven't fainted, bled on the carpet, ruptured stitches or made a mess of myself (more than usual). I must be recovering then. I was expecting lots of pain, long crying spells drug induced mumbling, wandering out into the street half naked and Yumi having to drag me to the bathroom by my legs (more than usual).

In reality, the pain is minimal, I sleep like a baby every night, can move around almost unhindered, have been taking walks since Sunday and walked around Gungahlin center yesterday by myself after taking the bus there. I have painkillers but didn't have to (or want to) use them. Even left the Panadol (Paracetamol) out after 2 days at home. I still take my spray to minimise bruising and the ever lovely Vital greens, but that is it. If it wasn't for the 64 cm scar and the tightness of my abdominal skin, I would not know anything was different. Oh but wait, 1 thing is different. I look better already!

I was told some people feel tired for a year after this operation. Really?! I feel tired of sitting around, but being a good patient that is what I do. And laundry, ironing, shopping, vacuuming, walking, cooking, some cleaning and lots and lots of reading. Sometimes even at the same time. But seriously, most of the time I rest, not because of tiredness, but because I am short of breath.Everything is sown back so tight that taking a deep breath requires lying down or a Kung Fu stance. As either is a bit weird in public and will probably either get me attacked or a lot of medical attention, I move around like hedgehogs make love, carefully, very carefully.

Under this completely authentic picture of a moderate sized Australian hedgehog are equally authentic pictures of my new and improved body. Fee free to tell me what you think.

Ah yes, the common Canberra Hedgehog, welcome to Straya mate!

You could decide not to scroll down

Still not too late...















Well, now you've done it!

NASA asked to take these pictures inside, their satellites get all messed up when I go outside like this

Yes, I have two pairs of sweatpants, no you cannot borrow them and yes, they are comfy

This is section 1, the second (back)section will go by end of the year or whenever the surgeon says so

1,7 kg of skin and 2 ltr of deep tissue fat, or so they say, pretty nasty huh?

Before (25-03-2014)

The bruising is not from the surgery, it's the liposuction needle, the pulling skin down (and Yumi beating me)
The back bit is very visible here. It's like looking at houses online, see what could be through the current furniture

Recovery

I thought it would be fun to share some of my experiences with the operation and aftermath. Now that I am home, it will start to get old pretty soon to hear how well I am doing, but for all of you who were not there, this is how I remember most of it.

 

Tuesday

For some reason more than a few people wanted to call me or see me “one last time” before the operation, because, hey you never know…. Never know what?! “Well, what if you don’t wake up from the anaesthetic?” WTH?..WHAT?! Well, thanks for putting that thought in my head, now I can worry about dying, much appreciated! 

Ehhm...., maybe next time?

Wednesday

Woke up nice and early (as always), no stress, but had the lingering sensation of “what if this is my last sunrise, etc..” Decided that all that fear stuff is not for me and got ready to go the clinic with Yumi. Arrived on time, got changed, picked my dinner (good advance planning guys!) and followed the doctor into the theatre. Last thing I remember him saying is, this will work within 1 minute. Might as well have been 1 second. Next thing I know I am awake. I kept my eyes closed and felt around under the blankets, but that creeped me out, so looked around and saw that I was in a room with orange walls with tubes sticking out of parts that had no tubes sticking out of them before and that there’s not really a hippo taking a nap on my lap, just a lot of pressure. Everybody was really nice to me and Yumi was there fairly soon to see that her BBQ cleaner was still in one piece. The physio wanted to see if I could be walking around by 16:00 but two near fainting spells later I was not going anywhere. All that changed by 20:00 when I was cruising the hallways with the nurse, my man bag of fluid bags. I did the Bellybuster shuffle for 2x25 meters in about 35 minutes, and was completely winded by then. Back to bed. Pffff.

 

 

 

Thursday

My Wednesday ended at 01:00 and my Thursday started at 03:00, who needs sleep anyway?! I read a great book “naked at work and other work related fears” and found out that laughing makes me cry and that I am a lucky devil to not feel ANY pain while that happens. Either those drugs were amazing, or I have the restorative capabilities of a starfish (yay, I could be superhero starfish man!). Early in the morning the nurses came to take the catheter out and that’s when I learnt that embarrassment is not stronger than pain, you just want the nurse to make it go away. Modesty? What modesty? Get your friends in here, take pictures for all I care, just GET.IT.OUT! The rest of the day I spent Facetiming, Skyping, going on walking dates with nurses, charming the socks off everyone and eating ice-cream. The reverse psychology of friends and family on me worked very well, I think they have never had a more well-behaved patient. I had enough energy left to make it to 20:30, do some physio work, eat some more and then give it a rest. I slept through the night almost completely

 

Could be worse, I could be Aquaman.....

 

Friday

I woke up at 5:00 and was so stoked about going home that sleeping was no longer an option. Took another shower, nurse came to take out the drains and that was not a fun experience, but not nearly as bad as I thought. Then the physio came and hurt me something fierce, stretching my skin back into place and then Yumi came to pick me up. I will take it as a good sign that all the nurses walked me to the car and made sure I was comfy. What a great experience. Getting home was equally great, with Yumi picking the most comfortable route and having everything at home ready to keep me comfortable and on the road to recovery. Extra bonus: our garage door got fixed super fancy and the heating works again right in time for the cold spell coming up. Finished the night on the couch with Yumi watching Black Sails before sleeping in my own bed and waking ready to take on the world after another good night’s sleep. (if the world can take it a bit slow for now, that would be great)

 

Awesomeness at 63%....

 

Thanks everyone for being so considerate, loving and supportive, it makes a big difference. I will do my best to recover like a good patient and be healthy (and awesome).

Cutting close to the bone

This will and will not be a story of my incredible weight loss and surgery journey, because as with our moving to Australia, we planned for it, so it wasn’t a real surprise. Just thought it would be nice to give a bit of background. Feel free to insert the world’s smallest violin or a tissue at any time. I am not looking for sympathy, maybe a bit of understanding would be nice.

Today I had plastic surgery. No fear, my name is not Wendy now and no, I did not get a boob-job even though some the things they showed me would have looked pretty good on me. It’s all being done at http://www.capsclinic.com.au/ and I cannot believe how amazingly good it has been.

This plan and my abdominoplasty (tummy tuck)has been in the making for at least 5 years. I hesitated soooo much, scheduled it, cancelled it, went to another specialist, and didn’t go through with it. For some people this step might still come as a bit of a surprise, so here we go with a bit of explanation. For those expecting pictures and other nastiness, nah, not just yet. This text is a naked as it will get. As personal as it gets, because its equal parts (lack of) self-worth and obtaining an outward appearance that matches how I feel inside, #onepictureawayfromawkward.

 

There will be no taking off of any shirt at any time, stop asking! Unless you're Ryan Gosling.

 

Other people’s opinions

I care what others think about my actions and expect the ones I hold dear to hold me to the highest standards because they deserve the best of me. I do not care about people who care about the outside more than the inside, who don’t want me to change so they don’t have to. You’d be amazed how many people told me: “Just exercise, you’ll get into shape, you do not need plastic surgery.” My reply would always be an explanation of how it came to be, never a snider (and somewhat deserved) comment like: “Oh wow, not only are you an accomplished <fill in random job>, you did the research and now know what is best for everybody AND you are an actual plastic surgeon and doctor!!” I have and always will believe that getting “work” done is a personal decision. Not all results are to my liking or done for reasons that I would choose for myself, but who cares, it’s your body and everyone should just let that be enough.

Please amaze and educate us all with your Google and Wikipedia opinions

My reasons

I wanted to look better to myself when I looked in the mirror. I wanted to look like a fighter, capable of protecting everything I hold dear. Thank goodness for all my Kung Fu Sifus who not only showed me that strength is not just in the muscle, but also in the mind. They do not look like NRL players, but I’d rather shoot myself than pick a fight with them (faster and less painful).

For the few out there who did not know. I left my parents’ house at 85.7 kg in 1997 and ate my way up to 140kg+. By 2001. No amount of taking me to the gym (thank you BP), talking to me (thank you mom), accepting me as I was (thank you them and everyone else) and sticking by my side (Thank you love of my life) got me to lose it until I found the motivation within myself. In 2003 I dropped 35 kilos in the deep freeze warehouse. I graduated at 103.7kg I struggled for the next four years to get below 100, but married at 104.3 kg in 2007. By 2010 I found the motivation and dropped to 85.7 and visited Australia for the first time at 86.7, stayed on that level for 2 years and slowly crept up to 90 while doing Kung Fu. Visiting Oz in 2012 I was still around 90 and during Kung Fu I kept it there, replacing fat with muscle, yay me, loving those muscles and the taught pain tolerance very much right now (pain score 1/10 while everyone else has 4-6/10). Moving to Australia in 2014 I let it go completely and arrived a clean 96.8 kg. This morning before the operation, I was 93.9 kg. There’s only so much your skin can take, at some point it will just sit there and be flabby and no amount of sit ups (had the time, did the numbers: about 75,000) Push ups (50,000) and crunches (billions)) can make that go away. It will just not happen, there’s no more connection to your body.

 

How I think Yumi's mind works. And I would agree.

How I completely lost it

I could launch into an inspirational bullsh*t story here, but it’s much simpler, I do not know, and trust me, that’s not for lack of trying to analyse. I could probably give Sonja Bakker (Dutch Dietician) a run for her money and actually write a book on it, but who’d read it?!  I surely talked enough to Yumi about it. (Sorry love, thank you for being so saintly patient and understanding) No life changing event or big happening seemed to make a difference. Sometimes I found the motivation, and sometimes I did not. Simple as that. I lost 35kg, gained 20, lost 25, gained 10, lost 25, gained another 10, lost another 5 and then gained another 10. You do the math, I lost as much weight as I weigh now. That’s insane! Well, no…. that’s what they call addiction.

Not that bad, but you get the idea

How I felt about it

Drugs, smokes and alcohol you can go without, food is a bit harder and being who I am, intense, energetic and an excessive personality, even harder. So I felt the whole spectrum. Anger for not being able to be like others, sadness for being an addict, resentment towards others who can eat whatever they want, frustration at having a mind that is so damn set on getting me back to where I was and still lets me feel like a 140kg person, fear of never being able to be happy with my body but most of all shame. Shame for having to by new clothes, Shame for not being a healthy husband and friend, Shame for not being stronger, shame for not being more disciplined, shame for not being able to resist the craving, shame for lying to myself, shame for being so grumpy and shame for doing this to myself. I am now at the point that food has no attraction to me, it is a way to sustain myself and stay healthy. Connecting food to pleasure is a very dangerous thing, because yes…my name is Gilbert Kruidenier and I am an addict. For life. Food is not fun, food is a problem for people like me. Don’t offer it to me to make you feel good, do not offer it to me so I can feel good. Thank you. I used to always be so angry all the time, like I had this monster inside of me that even with all my discipline and hard work  I could not control. Now I no longer fight it, I know it will be with me forever and that is okay, no need to get angry, it is part of who I am and always has been, just needs to be contained.

 

Without the green

 

The easy choice

All that being said, 100+ kilos of lost weight (what would I look like if I took the smartass advice and just trained 100kg of muscle on my frame?), 13 years of frustration for me and my surroundings fighting a battle without honour or mercy with myself, multiple changes of clothes and 1,000’s of hours at the gym and on home trainers. Not to speak of enough money spent to buy a prime gym membership for 22 years to pay for just the surgery, I would like to make the following deal with people who feel that plastic surgery is the easy way out: “I’ll go the gym and become more muscled so I can live up to your standards of what is right if you go back to school and be a bit smarter, so your ignorance is less offensive. (I’d pay for that).



Booyah!



Anybody, reading this, feel free to contact me and share your opinion, if you feel that you need help or just want to talk through your or my experience, you are not alone, but it is up to you to do something to feel better about yourself.

 

If it was meant to be hard, why make a sign that points in the right direction?