Above, Kjeld Nuis (32) says pointing to his head, there is a lot of traffic. That’s nice, sure. But you can also get lost in it. If you always have high peaks and deep troughs, then you become very restless. And then it’s good if you learn to temper that a bit, or to channel it. Therein lies the greatest gain for him.
In elementary school, they thought he had ADHD. He was quickly overstimulated, unmanageable. His parents had to come and talk every other month. At some point they got tired of it. They said: if we don’t have to come to school for a month, you get skates. Okay! So Nuis behaved exemplary.
The skates turned out to be a hit. He tied them to his handlebars at 7.30 in the morning and then cycled to the skate track near his primary school in the Merenwijk in Leiden. From there he could hear the bell. Then he hurried to school. After class the same story, and then hang around until eight o’clock in the evening. When he told his mother he brought a banana, he was barbecuing with his skate park mates.
Skating became his outlet. He enjoyed the lifestyle that came with it. Waking up, seeing the sun shining, and then starting the day with the question: where are we going to skate then? Get on the train to Rotterdam Blaak, put on some music, bring a bag of chips. Absolutely great. Arriving in Skateland for hours trying tricks, grinding handrails, going down stairs or curbs, without thinking about the consequences. The thrill of trying to land a trick, knowing that you can blow yourself too. He lacks little in the life he now leads. But yes.
Leiden Relief
Skating and skating, the two worlds cannot be combined. They are at right angles to each other; the discipline of skating, versus the freedom of skating. When he stops top sport, he immediately puts his skates back on. To make up for lost time. His mates will still be there. They send him videos regularly. When he picks it up, he laughs out loud. Idiots. Delicious. If he closes his eyes, he’ll be back in the Odessa, the pub where they drank beers during the Relief of Leiden.
The skate rink guys. They haven’t changed a bit. He goes there twice a year. And then it’s just as cozy as it was then. He can be completely himself there. There is respect for the other. It cannot be compared with the skating world, his other passion, of which he has been a part since the Juniors. There is much envy. elbows. Everyone keeps an eye on each other.
The complete program of the Winter Olympics
A few years ago, he felt watched every workout on the ice of Thialf. He also did it himself. Look at me going fast, he wanted to radiate. That culture prevails in skating. It made him insecure, so much so that he started copying other people’s behavior. If he saw a competitor doing a certain stretching exercise, he did it. And then with his tail between his legs to the start of a race. It is during that period that he blocked at major tournaments. That he just didn’t use his potential. In 2016, he decided it was time to get help.
In conversations with a psychologist, he learned to understand and let go of his fears. The fear of not being able to get out of his body what was inside. He wanted so badly that it just didn’t work out. He always had to show it. Dude, why should? Just do what you can.
Sometimes he saw himself on a podium before the start of a match. That’s the dumbest thing you can do. You have to stay close to yourself and focus on the things you can influence. That sounds super simple, but it isn’t. It is a matter of a lot of practice. Writing down thoughts you had during a race. What was useful to you or not.
Meganeurotic
He could lie awake all night over a draw, if he knew that a difficult intersection with a certain opponent was coming. Or if he felt a pain and had to skip strength training. Cunt, cunt, now the rest is moving forward and I’m not doing anything. He knows of himself that he can be meganeurotic. It can take him a whole Saturday to pack his suitcase, while he has been a top athlete for fifteen years and knows very well what to take with him. Is he in bed, it starts to rattle; do I have my spare tubes with me, and my Random Reader? It all costs energy.
Mindfulness brought a solution. Ten minutes a day. Put your earphones in and listen to a voice that tells a story. Or help you breathe calmly. Let you take time for yourself. Without incentives. No WhatsApp, no Instagram. Don’t set goals. Just be calm. To fall asleep or not. And that’s not a bad thing. He also calmed down when he missed placing in the 1,000 meters at the end of December at the Olympic qualifying tournament in Heerenveen, as reigning champion. He cried until his tears were gone. The next day he won the 1,500 meters, the distance at which he defends his title.
Wisdom also came with age. By overcoming adversity, he became a more mature sportsman, a calmer person. Eighteen months ago, he got corona during a training camp in Inzell. Just joined his new team, after a summer of hard training. Whoops, positive. Quarantine in a hotel was not an option. Would he be unhappy. He drove alone in the car back to the Netherlands. Stopping at a gas station every two hours, having a coffee through the window. At home he began to feel paralyzed. Loss of taste, the well-known complaints. In two weeks he lost six kilos of muscle tissue.
And yet he wanted to participate in the Dutch National Championships. The doctor thought he was crazy, but he thought he knew what he was doing. Weakened, he appeared at the start of the 1,000 meters and took bronze two-tenths from Thomas Krol. The day after the tournament, he had an MRI scan. Nothing to see.
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Last June he suddenly felt pressure on his chest, just after Pfizer’s corona vaccine. They saw problems on a heart film, which were confirmed in the lab. Elevated levels of troponin indicate damage to the heart. Fucking hell. There he suddenly lay, on all kinds of snakes. This could cost him his entire year. And the Games. It took weeks before he dared to go full again during a training of six times three minutes uphill. Because then he felt his heart beating in his throat, keduuk, keduuk, and he didn’t dare any harder.
Falling movement in the bend
Looking back, it sucked, he says. But it has given him a lot of confidence. Because he proved himself capable of beautiful things even weakened. There are several paths to success. What else are you making him? The way he feels now, he can last another ten years.
The skating feeling is never boring. The movement is magical man, being able to steer so well on an iron of a few millimeters. The falling movement in the corners is the best thing there is. He will continue to do this until the Milan Games in 2026, regardless of the result in Beijing. Standing in orange for the Netherlands, that remains mighty beautiful.
But as soon as he stops skating, he puts his skates back on. Catch up time. He is sure that those guests from the past will still be there and will welcome him with open arms. He looks pityingly at his phone, at the images they send him. Fuck it, he says. I should have been there.
Not that he regrets the life he now leads. He has learned to feel safe in the skating world. But for now, he prefers to go to the skate park with his son. At the age of five, he can already do things that eight-year-olds cannot imitate him. He recognizes a lot of himself in Jax. Just like a bouncing ball. To enjoy. Because there is nothing more beautiful than a child following his passion.