Ya ain't much if ya ain't Dutch

I have always been very proud of my Dutch heritage. I grew up living only a couple miles away from my Dutch grandparents and spent a lot of time immersed in traditions I didn't even realize were because of my heritage until I was older. Tea time at 10 am and 3 pm, black licorice (still don't like it), birthday calendars, dinner for lunch and lunch for dinner, and the list goes on. One thing I did learn about the Dutch as I got older was what a bike friendly bunch of crazies we are. I am a disgrace to my heritage.

I haven't had a bike since I was probably in jr. high. When you're fat, you don't want to ride up the street on a bike having the people coming up behind you wondering where the seat went. When your fat, you can't pedal your fat ass up the street period. I can remember riding my bike with my brother all over our yard AND the neighbors yard or all over the campground when we went camping. And then it stopped.

So, I texted Insertnamehere last night and asked him if I could go on a pedal with him once I lost a bunch of weight. He rides his bike all over the place. He said he'd be looking forward to it and could he help me pick out my bike. I obviously agreed since I know nothing about bikes. Later that night we were talking on Facebook and he linked me to a bike. He already picked it out for me. The Electra Townie Balloon 3i. All I had to do was choose the color. Easy. Orange. It is the color of our people (he is Dutch, too, doncha know).

So, today I found a picture of my tangerine dream and it is the photo on my computer's desktop so that I see it all the time. They are spendy mofos so it will be a significant reward for reaching one of my goals. I just don't know what that goal should be yet. I don't know what level of fat this bike is approved for. It's got nice fat tires and a decent size seat. It will likely be more about when I'd feel comfortable riding it than what weight it could hold. Two vastly different numbers. It was nice having him support me. Later he asked how he could help. I told him to just ask me if I've been going to the gym and eating right and don't judge me. Tonight we talked about the ice cream we eat together and I said we're going to have to reserve the B&J for special occasions and get healthier stuff most of the time. He was all for it. He supports me because he knows my size matters to ME, not because my size matters to him. It makes all the difference.

So, when I get to 275 or lose 100 or something of that nature, I will be embracing my Dutch heritage and hopefully pedaling my less fat ass down the streets of Portland with a particular Dutch boy because, after all, you ain't much if you ain't Dutch.