#Whole30: 4 days complete

So far so good, no slips and no particular cravings. I feel good, no amazing difference, just a better attitude in general because I feel good about my plan and look forward to results. It's also really eased the stress of meal planning and grocery shopping because I have clear guidelines for myself. So to prepare you for this long post, especially those of you not particularly interested in a paleo diet, I've included a short section on my general thoughts and feelings so far, a day by day breakdown, and then a section on challenges I've faced. I'm going to attempt to keep this up for the 30 days.

General thoughts summary:  I haven't been hungry between meals or feeling depleted, not even much for snacking between meals. Chewing up a bowl full or raw vegetables takes forever and is filling. Can eat to satiation every meal and don't feel bloated or "full". Watch out for soy and corn it's everywhere in the grocery store. Added sugar is in everything. Not licking the spoon after making non paleo food for the kids is next to impossible, such a habit to taste everything I make. I can't stop grocery shopping because my pantry is empty and building. I'm obsessed with learning everything I can.

Most used resources:

The Clothes Make The Girl - paleo blog, she has an awesome cookbook that I bought, I want to make everything in it. The book also gives great advice for putting together a paleo kitchen and maximizing your cooking time for extreme efficiency while still being able to eat delicious meals every single day.

Whole 30 - all the basic guidelines from the creators, Melissa and Dallas Hartwig. I didn't buy the book, the program and principals are free.

Day 1: Just used what I had already. Fried some sweet potatoes in coconut oil to make a hash, boiled a few eggs, threw a couple of chicken breasts on the George Foreman and had almost 2 days worth of meals instantly. Ate a few apples as well. Went for a short but quick run. The diet is too new to tell any difference.

Day 2: Went grocery shopping and read every ingredient label there was. It's amazing how added sugar, corn, and soy beans are in almost everything. It was really sad that I couldn't buy any sausage or bacon. All of them had added sugar, usually in the form of dextrose, and most had soy in them. WHY does soy need to be in the meat? Anyway, I found a recipe to make my own sausage without the completely unnecessary sugar and soy. I remember why I quit doing this last time I tried, it was overwhelming and I got stuck. This time I have the right motivation and resources.

That night I roasted a spaghetti squash, browned some ground turkey, and made a home made sugar free meat sauce. It made enough food for 4 large meals for myself.

Day 3: Ate on the food had already prepared as well as some fresh raw veggies and fruit. Only had time for a quick workout, a few mile sprints and some heavy lifting. It all felt good and I definitely had the energy to do more. Ate dinner with the family at my parents house. This was a challenge. My dad is a cook, and he was aware of my new chosen diet and tried to make things I could eat. However, he cooked up a bunch of peppers and onions with butter in it and cooked down wine, both things on the do no eat list. He made a second batch without butter for me, but it still had the cooked down wine. According to whole30 you aren't even supposed to eat food cooked in wine. It was going to be an ordeal if I didn't eat it, and all the wine was most definitely cooked out. Too make things more challenging, he dumped the batch that had butter on the pork chops. So I scraped and blotted and ate the chops anyway. I'm not too worried. Eating food you don't make yourself is a challenge, you have to ask how it was prepared. I'm also confident I didn't consume enough of the butter to make any difference and the alcohol was completely cooked out. Dinner was great and I'm thankful my Dad kept my diet in mind and made stuff for me.

Day 4: Made some home made sausage and made them into scotch eggs. I combined it with some home made mayo. These were amazing and I made up enough to eat on for a while. They are going to be a staple of the next thirty days for sure. Late in the day I started to get some junk food cravings, they were hitting pretty hard. So I ate another scotch egg and had some tasty cranberry kombucha that I picked up at Whole Foods. That stuff is quite pricey, but I have all the makings on the way so I can brew my own, less than a dollar a gallon homemade.

Biggest challenge: So far is preparing food for my kids. I'm not going to fight the battles of making them eat what I eat, though I try to cook healthy for them. I really wonder if they would benefit from a paleo meal plan, especially my daughter. She's never done well or been a fan of dairy. I know they eat too much sugar, but I'm not ready for that battle and I only have them half the time so consistency is out the door. There mom feeds them fast food and other highly processed junk. On two occasions I've found myself tasting the food I make for them that is non paleo, just a habit. Both times I've caught myself and spit it out. I'm trying to do this hardcore, not a bite. Also, sugar free gum. I popped a piece in my mouth before a meeting at work last week because I had coffee breath and the rush of sweetness caught me. It dawned on me instantly that this most definitely was not paleo or whole30. I spit it out, guess I'll have to chew some fresh mint, haha.

Challenge Accepted: #whole30

It was a good run today, no garmin, no water, no music, just shoe to pavement. It felt good to just run, no pressure to perform in any certain way. It gave me some much needed freedom to think. I've not felt my best lately and most of it has to do with the junk I put in my body. It affects ever facet of my life, from mood to physical performance.

I need a major diet overhaul, but have so much back log of different eating styles that I haven't been able to put anything consitent together. Mostly, I keep eating processed junk with a healthy meal here and there. I spent 10 months sober last year and three months of that as a vegetarian. I don't think the no meat lifestyle is for me, but I gave it an honest shot. I lost a ton of weight, but ultimately felt week at the end of those 3 months.

With a 50 mile run in my horizon, late August, I'm in need of a change. Something to recharge and get out of this mini-rut. I read a really interesting blog post from an ultra runner who did the #whole30 challenge with great success (I SEE TRAILS: A 90 Mile Week om #whole30). I've dabbled in the paleo lifestyle in the past, but as an endurance athlete I just couldn't imagine a diet without grains being able to work. Now that I've seen others have success, I am absolutely inspired and determined to complete the challenge.

What is #whole30? The basic premise is that there are many foods that cause inflamation of the GI and imbalance of hormones. So the challenge is this, cut all these foods out for 30 days, let your body heal and detox, while eating healthy with absolutely no cheats for 30 days, not a bite or a sip or you have to start the 30 days over to get the best effects. Anyway, it's basically a strict paleo diet. I won't bore you with all the details, but here are the basics:

- Eat real food: meat, seafood, eggs, tons of vegetables, some fruit, and plenty of good fats from fruits, oils, nuts and seeds. Eat foods with very few ingredients, all pronounceable ingredients, or better yet, no ingredients listed at all because they’re totally natural and unprocessed.
- Do not consume added sugar of any kind, real or artificial
- Do not consume alcohol
- Do not eat grains
- Do not eat legumes
- Do not eat dairy
- Do not consume carrageenan, MSG or sulfites

Yeah, that's a lot of do nots, I get it. But I do well with defined paremeters. It's also only 30 days, I'm not making a life long comittment, but I am hoping to implement some life long habits and learn some things about myself along the way. I'm certain there are going to be some trying points and near breaks, but I'm going to write about it along the way to help keep myself in check about how I am feeling and how I am doing. I'll try to share some recipes along the way and of course how it affects my running. How I am I going to long run without sugar? I've got some ideas and we'll see how it pans out.

I just moved and basically have no food in my house, what better time to start than with an already empty pantry and refrigerator.

Can I get an Amen?!

Wow, I have missed this happiness over the past 12 weeks. I got in five miles on some damp trails in this perfect Indiana fall weather. The calming patter of raindrops in the tree canopy above was my playlist. I won a staring contest with a healthy second year whitetail buck, it's two tined antlers showing his age. It felt like I was the graceful deer bounding down the wet but not yet muddy single track. I am so grateful to be back on the trails and am incredibly thankful to God. He took me out for a reason and He gave me that clarity of that reason today.

See, there is no time that I feel closer to God and his creation than when I'm trail running. There is no other facet of life in which I can so appreciate the living, breathing, working organism that is my body. No other facet of life in which I can experience the simple freedom of movement, breath, and life. But for so long that was the extent to which I connected to God. During this period of being out I've been moved to become active in my church, to reach out and connect with other believers, and more importantly to grow closer to God through prayer, worship, scripture and being among other Christians.

Honestly, I haven't been this content of a person since I was a teenager pre-drinking days. He knew I was ready, but that I wouldn't give the time to see what He wanted with all the focus I was placing on running. There was no intent on my part to slow down, so he helped slow down the running with a case of ITBS that came out of no where and without warning. This body is weak and can be lost at anytime. I've learned I can continue to not drink, to be content, to find happiness even without being able to run. One of my biggest fears in this new sober life, one that I worried about almost daily, was what would I do if I could no longer run? Would I be able to continue not drinking? Would I be able to be happy? Seriously, we're all a car accident away from never walking again. I was at a loss for what would happen to my life; now I'm not worried at all.


AMEN!

Still On the Wagon

Hey all. I don't know how many people read my updates on a regular basis, but it's been far too long. I try to write and post about specific and valuable topics and use this less as a journal of my life. Unfortunately I haven't made the time to write lately, but have some good topics I want to post on. But in the short term let me give you a brief update:

RUNNING

July 14th ran and completed Dances with Dirt Devil's Lake 50k (report to come)
July 15th signed up for Dances with Dirt Hell 50k on Sept. 22nd
July 17th raced in my tuesday night trail 10k series for the third overall podium spot
July 18th first time noticeable IT pain in my left leg
July 22nd attempted easy 8 mile run and forced to stop at 1.5 with a tightening knee
July 30th attempted 5 mile run, ran 3 miles before knee locked up and became painful
August 3rd experiencing the joys of 3x a day IT band foam rolling for the first time

SOBRIETY

August 10th will be 8 months clean, happy, and free from booze. Can't believe it's been that long. The farther I come, the easier it gets. Still have some dark days. The July 4th holiday was tough. Sometimes I find myself questioning am I really an alcoholic, or did I just have other problems causing me to drink to much. The answer is I have a drinking problem, if I drink, regardless of other issues. The solution is don't drink. I don't want any of that uninvited unnecessary pain and complication drinking used to bring into my life any longer. Life isn't all peachy and perfect now that I don't, but the out of control unwelcome sorrows that drinking caused are gone, aside from some of the remnants it already caused, but even those are clearing out one at a time.

LIFE

Switched to a vegetarian diet June 10th with the intent of figuring out how it affects my athletic performance.
I'm contemplating a vegan diet, not ready for the everyday commitment yet, but I have many vegan days and meals.
Have had the extreme pleasure of having my two kids with me full time for the second half of their summer vacation. Unfortunately they have to go back to school and resume normal parenting schedules next week. This will mean I have more time to write.

That's it, but expect some better quality and focused posts from me coming up.

(insert catchy sign off here)

josh

Gnaw Bone 50k: 2012 Race Report

THE EPILOGUE:

I ran my first Ultra and I loved everything about it, even the parts I hated. My burgeoning running career took it's first major leap last September when I read Born to Run. From that time on I knew deep inside that I wanted to run an ultra marathon, but I never dreamed I would be able to do it 7 months later. I owe many thanks to all my friends and family who have supported the lifestyle change that's brought me to where I am. Never in my life have I had a higher self esteem, felt more physically healthy, or had such a gratitude for life and all it has to offer in my tiny spectrum of existence.

This race came a short 2 weeks after the Potato Creek Trail Marathon. My long run friend Chris had been putting the bug in my ear to sign up for this race for some time. My original plan was to run the 100k relay with my weekly running group buds, the same guys that are largely responsible for helping me get my endurance to where it is today. However, the team fell apart at the last minute as some conflicting dates with ultra important graduation ceremonies were made known. So the less than 2 weeks before the 50k and only a few days after the marathon I mentally sized up my health and recovery ability and decided I was meant to run this race.

Fast forward to race day. This time, despite the race being 1.5 hours away and an early 6:15 start, I decided I would better be served getting a few hours of quality sleep in my own bed rather than some fitful hours in a tent. I set my alarm for 3 AM, got up on time, splashed cold water on my face, brewed the coffee, at some granola and almond milk, and got in my already loaded Jeep to find this most excellent surprise:

Dad and I had poured over the trail map and discussed the course and his old hunting trips to the area  over the past couple of days. He thought it would be a good idea to carry a map with me. So I found this map, 20 inspiration quotes, and a case of water. Thanks Dad!

I decided to start my journey by pulling a random quote before even driving off. Wiser words from a great man. This would stay in my mind all day and prove useful.

I got to Gnaw Bone as planned by 5 AM giving myself plenty of time to relax, watch the 50 Mile early start folks take off at 5:30, and take care of pre race business. I decided to wear my gear vest which I stocked with gels, S! caps, iPod nano, bandana to wipe away sweat and mud, Nuun electrolyte tabs, and race map. The night before I went through great effort to wire my headphones to the vest so I wouldn't have to mess with the wires once all day. This worked out perfectly and so did the Yurbud headphones. The only gripe I have is that I pinned the left headphone down to my vest as I planned to run with one bud in and one out until surge time, but about halfway through the day I noticed the plastic Yurbud that covers the headphone had fallen off somewhere along the trail. I also carried a 21 oz handheld water bottle with a zippered pouch on it that carried 2 additional gels. I wore my Ink'N'Burn Endurance race kit. Because I hate poking holes in expensive race clothing with enormous safety pins I also wore my shadow belt waist pack and pinned my race number to the belt. Since I had the belt anyway, I carried toddler wipes and bandaids in the pouch along with an emergency gel. I strapped on my Saucony Peregrines and put an almost brand new pair of Brooks Pure Grits into my B drop bag for the Hoosiers Nest aid station at mile 21.2. Also in the that drop bagged I packed new socks, additional gels, and a Starbucks Double Espresso shot. We had the option of an A drop bag at mile 10.9, Hesitation point. I packed a small cooler with a Starbucks Double Espresso Shot, a few gels, and a blue gatorade. I never touched the first drop bag, but the second with shoes was useful. My race shorts have to small gel pockets on the front that worked perfect for depositing the 19 remaining inspirational quotes.

RACE GOALS:

I thought long and hard about this. My overall goal was to finish, no matter what it would be a PR, but I'm a number driven and motivated person. I did some calculations, some analysis of recent years finishing times and decided my dream goal would be to finish in under 6 hours, which would be about an 11:40 minute per mile pace. I planned to walk uphills when I felt my heart rate rising, run the downs when I could and run anything "flat". My B goal was to finish in less than 6 1/2 hours.

THE RACE:

I met up with Chris and we lined up for the 6:15 start along with 130 other 50k runners and a healthy dose of 50 Mile folks who opted not to do the 5:30 start. We started right on time with the sun soon to rise but the scene lit by the faint pre-dawn rays cascading over the horizon to our backs.

Course map and aid station intervals. Here is a link to the course description leg by leg. I will use the titles of each leg to break down my race experience.

Leg 1: I've been slimed! (miles 0 - 3-8)

Chris and I started out with the pack at an easy pace along a 1/2 mile stretch of gravel road to where the real trails begin, and of course in the direction of up. We would follow a muddy horse shit covered stretch of trail up a good 500 feet of elevation change. Some of the trail was ankle deep mud, lots of log hopping and ducking and pretty much overall slow going. My 6 hour goal began to seem unattainable after my second mile came in at 12:41. The trail did eventually flatten out, but kept up with the mud until the first aid station. It wasn't feeling like a race or a long run yet and I hadn't settled into to anything. My nutrition plan was to stick with gels every 30 minutes until I felt the need for more and up the intake to ever 20 minutes or more. I took my first gel at the half hour mark despite not wanting it.

Leg 2: Goin' Down (miles 3.8 - 8.9)

I refilled my handheld and plopped in a fruit punch flavored Nuun tab and swiped a chocolate GU from the aid station table, thanked the volunteers and headed off on the short stretch of campground road picking up the pace a bit. I decided this would be a good place to pull a quote and got this gem:

"Some days even my lucky rocket ship underpants won't help."

Calvin and Hobbes

This put a smile on my face and and I let out an audible chuckle and decided to grab out one more quote, I needed some inspiration.

"Don't give up on the impossible before you try it."

Biggie Munn

Now this is what I needed. My 6 hour goal came back to mind as a potential reality. I decided then and there that I was gonna bust my ass and do whatever it took to make this happen. This wasn't even a race yet and I was barely getting warmed up for the real running. At this point the trail picked back up and headed down, a direction in which I excel. Also, my buddy Chris caught up with me as he blew through the first aid station and found me chatting with a man who won the Florida Dances with Dirt 50k last year. The dude is running all 4 of the 50 mile courses this year. We were all running and chatting single file on a steady downhill when the dude clipped a log with his toe and went careening to the earth. He was carrying two handhelds and hit chest/shoulder first into the hard packed earth. I was sincerely worried and slowed step. He moaned loudly and I thought for sure he dislocated his shoulder, but he convinced us to go on.

There were many more downs and ups. Chris and I ran this section together. We walked the ups at a steady but fast hike, and absolutely smoked the downhill to Ogle Lake, that was FUN! We did however run with more vigilance and went up a seemingly forever long hill but caught up to a conga line of 4 other runners who were chatting along at a 10:30 or so pace. We fell in and ran for a mile or so with them to the next aid station. Along the way our fallen brother had caught up and made it to the aid station.

Leg 3: Hesitation Blues (miles 8-9 - 10.9) and Leg 4: Peregrine (miles 10.9 - 13.9)

The previous mile along with my next five would prove to be my best consecutive stretch of the race despite being described as 5 of the most difficult:

8 - 9:15

9 - 11:11

10 - 10:25

11 - 9:38

12 - 9:30

13 - 10:46

The conga line took off before me but I soon caught up. Hard fall dude and I decided to ask for a pass and took off from the line making the climb to Hesitation Point. The miles clicked off and I did some serious hill work without raising my heart rate (all going by feel here). I blew through Hesitation point without so much as a view or even thinking about my drop bag. I was settling in for the second third of the course of which I expected to be the most difficult. I think these were my best miles because this is the point in which I began my favorite run distraction tactic, thinking about the people I love.

I thought of my kids Reagan and Noah and had even wore two silly bands, one to represent each of them, along the way. My love for them is boundless and unending. I thought of my parents. I thought of my grandparents. I thought of former lovers and the pieces of my heart I had given them. I thought about each of my friends and the role they have played in my life. Believe me when I say this list is extensive and that if I know you, you were on it. I thought about God and how I never feel more in touch with things greater than myself than when into a long trail run. I said a prayer for each of you and was thankful for you being in my life. There was an extra special thought in my mind for all the other runners I knew out on the course today and that they would have a fun, safe, and rewarding race day.

Leg 5: The Watchtower (miles 13.9 - 17.9)

My race strategy had been spot on. I was absolutely killing the flat sections and the downhills, my legs felt fantastic and I was blowing by unsuspecting racers on the flats. I walked the big hills and let anyone who wanted to run them pass me by, they deserved it. However, many I would see again soon as I blazed by on the downhills and flats never to see 'em again. From here on out I never really ran with anyone again. I put in the tunes and merrily kept moving and pacing. I can't remember much of the details of this section except there were lots of ups and downs and the tunes were good. I ate gels; I drank fruit punch Nuun; I ran.

Leg 6: Devil's Daughter (miles 17.9 - 21.2)

This shit is getting hard. The goat took us off the state park trail system. Now I was scrambling through the brush, thistles, and thorns climbing up and down ravines with little to no footing. We dropped off 2-3 foot ledges into creek beds of which I didn't particularly care for. Last thing I wanted to do was twist an ankle from a high impact jump. I knew I had been going so fast on the flats and downhills I could afford to be careful here, and I was. Check out the times on my next string of miles:

18 - 12:48

19 - 14:46

20 - 12:08

21 - 15:16

At the last aid station, mile 17.9, I discovered something interesting. In addition to the normal bottle refill and gel restocking of my vest I saw a brown bubbling liquid that looked strangely delicious. I asked, "Is this soda?" The familar looking aid station volunteer said, "Yeah, it's Pepsi." My first thought was, "Damnit, why not Coke?" I drank down a dixie cup full and it was magical.

Leg 7 Stairway to Heaven (miles 21.2 - 25.6)

As I came up another long hill and heard the cheers of some inspiring onlookers I knew it meant one thing, AID STATION! I had been looking forward to this aid station for many reasons. First off COBY!!!! My friend and a regular running partner was working this aid station and he greeted me with raised arms and a double high five and immediately went to work like my own personal NASCAR pit crew. We found my blaze orange North Face backpack drop bag and I plopped my ass down to the ground for a shoe change. This I had been looking forward to as the Brooks Pure Grit have a slight cushion to them and weigh a few ounces less. Coby topped off my handheld and brought me an assortment of gels. He popped one open for me and I devoured, laced my shoes, walked over to the stocked aid station table and gulped down a dixie cup of water followed by two dixie cups of magic Pepsi.

I was feeling strong and ready for the rest of the race. "Lie to me Coby, it's all downhill from here, right" I said. Coby lied to me and I took off with a howl and down hill to rip off my fastest mile of the race.

22 - 9:08

I was feeling great, but once again shit got real. I ran for some period of time down a steep descent that I was convinced was a ski slope of mud and ankle deep clay designed by a race director who was trying to kill me. Also, there was a serious lack of flags and it made me nervous and angry. Outloud I cursed the goat for such poor trail marking. I was roaring downhill and had no intention of coming back up. Onward and onward I went scared I had made the wrong choice until finally, PINK FLAG HALLELUJAH! I burned a short flat section with more ankle deep mud until the course veered off the trail, through some tall grass and then into what looked like straight up. Seriously, no trail, muddy grass, 70 degree angle. I was on all fours scrambling up this incline grabbing trees and brush while my feet slipped out underneath me trying to send me back down the hill. This off trail up and down continued on for some time. I ran when I could and hiked when I had to. My favorite song came on at some point and it was perfect:

Rancid - When I Fall Back Down

I sang out loud not caring who heard, and people did. My spirits were high despite the difficult miles until this little thing happened. Two guys I had run a short period with before the last aid station came up behind me and one said "How did you get in front of us? You stopped to change shoes."

My heart sank and I thought, "What the fuck does he mean?" I replied back, "I don't know, I've been running really fast and wasn't looking for you."

"Well you didn't pass us."

"Are you implying that I cheated!?" (I was ready to grind his face into the trail and disheartened by the prospect that I might have course cut on accident)

"No, we think we might have gone off course." 

I wasn't convinced with his answer, but they seemed frustrated. We approached the infamous endless staircase to heaven I had been hearing about from other runners and I left them with these parting words, "I don't care if you beat me, the only person I'm racing is myself." After this incident the miles got a little tougher and the music started to give me a headache. I took out the earbud without bothering to turn off the iPod, too much work. After the staircase and yet another seemingly endless uphill I emerged on the camp ground road which I knew to be a 1.25 mile stretch that should be easy. I picked up pace and caught up to some other runners but could feel a wall coming on. I expected to feel my best here and was starting to feel the worst.

Leg 8: Recovery (miles 25.6 - 28.1) Leg 9: Rattlesnake Run (miles 28.1 - 30.8)

This was where the 50M folks turned on for another grueling loop or dropped down with the rest of us in the 50k and made the mad dash to the finish. This was the last stocked and manned aid station as well. I caught up to the dude who took a hard spill early on in the race. He was looking dreadful and said that he was having a hard time breathing from the fall and dropped down to the 50k. He scadaddled down the trail and I didn't see him again until the finish.

I was hurting, but comforted by the amount of time I had before me to accomplish my goal. Approximately 5.5 miles to the end and 70 minutes to do it and still be sub 6. The best math I could do was figuring a 12 minute mile per minute pace would do the job. I looked at the aid station and no Pepsi in sight. I asked the volunteer, "Is there any soda?" fully expecting the answer to be no. Much to my surprise he only asked, "Mt. Dew or Pepsi?" I greedily drank 3 dixie cups full, rested my legs a minute and marched on down the shit covered ankle deep mud horse trails.

My legs hurt and mentally I was in a bad place. One part of me said, "Josh, even if you finish in 6:05 it's still a great time." But I knew that I would be so much happier achieving my sub 6 dream and 12 minute miles were not out of the question. My legs hurt, my head hurt, and these fucking horse flies! I wasn't sure if I was delusional or if they were real. I couldn't actually see them but kept feeling something landing on the back of my head. I swatted with anger and much cursing. I ran and walked constantly checking my pace to keep it under 12 whatever it took. I had kinda needed to pee but not really for quite some time. I made a deal with myself that if I stopped and peed I would have to feel better and run faster. Without bothering to leave the trail, I stopped to water the weeds. A runner came up behind me and of course was a chic. "Oh fucking well, it's an ultra and I just don't care right now" I thought to myself. "So long as she doesn't turn around after going by she won't have to see my junk and if she does, well then I guess I'm flattered." She didn't turn around.

I came up on an old dude riding a painted horse and called out to him, anything to distract myself from the pain. He asked what I was doing and I told him about the race and how far I had come. He literally looked at my like I was out of my fucking mind and decided to take an alternate trail rather than follow into further madness.

I was crying and running at this point. I wanted this sub 6 so bad, but this was the hardest thing I've ever physically been through and my mind was deteriorating even further. Inspirational quote time. I reached in and pulled this:

"What matters is not necessarily the size of the dog in the fight - it's the size of the fight in the dog"

Dwight D. Eisenhower

"Fucking Eisenhower said that?" I've seen one too many sloganed t-shirts that don't give proper credit. Good quote, but I need more. The next one broke my slump.

"Tough times don't last, but tough people do."

AC Green

I looked at my Garmin to see I had just finished mile 29 - 12:31. "No big deal" I thought, "mile 26 was an 11:30, maintain average." My perspective got brighter. "Two miles to the finish, you run 2 miles in less than 20 minutes like it's nothing all the time and have 30 minutes to do it right now. Don't give up on the impossible before you try it!" The tears were stinging my already salted face and a new energy filled my body.

Half a mile later and there was no more forest, no more tree canopy, the end was near and I felt a stronger surge. Before me was a former blue diamond ski slope and I knew the last hill of the day. Also, did I mention I love running downhill? I looked down at my quads, told them it was go time, and took off at a screaming pace down the hill literally giving my loudest howl. It scared the shit out of a runner in front of me and he stepped to the side to let me pass, for which I was very thankful, not sure I could have slowed that roll. When we hit the bottom of the hill it was running through waist deep grass toward the river bank. I knew we would be getting in the river soon and kept looking for the where. I was tired, but my mind was in the right place. More than anything I wanted to be done. The trail followed next to the river for a bit and finally dove down in. The water didn't feel good at first, it only made me painfully aware of the forming blisters on my feet. I trudged on until it became knee deep and seriously contemplted sitting down right there. I was nearing delirium and forced myself to remember how close the finish line was. I didn't need to look at my Garmin anymore. I knew beyond a doubt so long as I moved forward a sub 6 was all mine. I emerged from the river, saw the big red barn and the glorious finish 1/4 mile out. I put in my best effort full on sprint, crossed the finish line and spiked my handheld into a tiny water explosion.

THE FINISH:

I officially crossed the line at 5:51:06 absolutely crushing my expectations.

My friend and running buddy Gabe, who did the half marathon, was in the right place at the right time and recorded the video of me sprinting to the finish.

Gnaw dem bones! My absolute favorite picture of the day. Gabe and I both placed 4th in our age groups for our respective races and got these cool bones as race awards.

Post race I was a little disoriented and couldn't make a decision as to what to do next. For the previous 6 hours my only intent had been on placing one foot in front of the other. Coby was at the finish line to help me out. I chugged several bottles of water and stuffed my face with brownies. Gabe and I eventually made it back to the creek and I soaked my legs in the cold spring creek and it felt heavenly.

Officially I placed 17 / 121 overall and 4 / 11 in my age group. I am more than pleased. That last 5.5 stretch was the toughest thing I've ever physically accomplished. I will be doing a 50k at least two more times this year. I'm still in my rookie year of endurance running and every intention of continued training, learning, and loving. So far this is proving to be the best year of my life and I'm learning anything is possible with sobriety. Thanks for all your support.

josh of all

Potato Creek Trail Run 2012: Marathon Race Report and How I Won (Almost Sort of)

The Potato Creek Bagpiper. Very cool way to kick off a race.

This was my A race of the spring season. It had been the primary focus and objective for spinning my legs trail mile after trail mile, hitting the gym hard, putting in cross training, eating healthy, getting sleep, and all those painful interval workouts. All that stuff paid off hard. Not only was I able to complete my first marathon (and on the trails) but I won. That's right, let me say it again because it feels awesome. I WON A MARATHON!

Let's start from the day before the race. Ben and I traveled from Indy north to Potato Creek State Park. We figured pleasing the trail gods by camping would be in our best interest. Also, making a 3 hour drive prior to an 8 AM start didn't seem like a good idea. Camping is cheaper than a hotel. We both worked half days and arrived late afternoon to set-up camp and meet up with the race director. He told us a little about the race, we chatted, helped set up, and went out to the only dining establishment in Lakeville, IN, The Buffalo Rose. We were skeptical, but it was a gem of a restaurant. They make pizza, tacos, burritos, burgers and sliders. Also had a decent craft brew selection for those of you who are into that. The food was excellent and they were even nice enough to bring our table a complimentary plate of their newest specialty Buffalo Rose sliders.

Ben and I headed back to camp and made a fire. I cooked up some sweet potatoes to carb load without overloading and called it bedtime around 10. It got cold, down in the low 40's to high 30's. We were car camping so traveled in comfort, each man in their own tent. However, I was really uncomfortable and the campground was loud enough to keep me awake until 12:30. Somehow I managed about 4 fitful hours of sleep and got up as planned at 5 AM. I worked some magic on the propane stove and whipped up some gritty cowboy coffee and ate a CLIF bar. I took in the luxury of a hot shower and got in gear for the race. It was supposed to have rained over night and there was never more than a light drizzle. We checked the radar and the storm looked due to hit at race time. It was still cold and this worried me a bit.

We got to the start/finish to finalize gearing up for the race at 7:40. I loaded up my vest with gels, salt tabs, iPod nano, honey stinger waffles, wipes, and a handkerchief. I made a last minute decision to put together a drop bag of dry clothes in case it got too miserable out there and so I missed the pre race meeting (never ended up using the bag). Luckily I got the gist of the details the night before, pays to be friends with the RD. At 7:55 the bagpiper played Amazing Grace, a running reverend gave the invocation, and BOOM the RD shot off a potato cannon to signal race start. At this exact moment the skies burst open with cold rain and much to my surprise stinging sleet. Luckily only the first quarter mile is relatively unprotected from the tree canopy. So my first marathon would be spent soaked to the bone in the cold.

Ben and I started as the front runners so we could say we were the leaders at one point, but let all the fast runners fly by. It was hard to hold back and maintain a 9:30 pace, but I was shooting for 10's the whole race so knew I absolutely had to. I had no idea what races the other runners were doing. There was a half marathon, full marathon, and 60k (39 mile) all going on at the same time on the same trails. This is interesting as it keeps you in the dark as to what place you might be. My goal was to finish strong and come in around 4:20 or better.

The first 6 miles were all on hiking trails, mostly crushed gravel double track, short connector sections of single track, and a few grass trails. This portion of the course also had the biggest hills, of which there are two, one being the highest point in the county. I only walked the second half of the longer hill in order to keep my heart rate down. Ben and I ran most of these 6 together chatted and had fun. As we were exiting the hiking trails and headed toward the more difficult mountain bike course for the second half of the first loop (13.1 miles), I stopped to water the trees and lost him, which was fine. I refilled my handheld at the aid station and headed into the mountain bike trails with full expectations of picking up the pace. My absolute favorite type of trail is rolling twisting single track. Mountain bike courses are perfect examples. I approached this portion of the course as being "my jam" and focused in. Within the first mile I caught up to Ben, yelled BOO and took off past him. Don't worry he wasn't running slow and we weren't racing each other. He ran the 60k event and took a solid 3rd place finish in under 7 hours! I came up on a few conga lines of people, but never found one with a good pace and passed everyone as politely as possible. I would tell them I'm passing and sprint past to the left just off trail. I exited the mountain bike course and seemed to have shocked the RD a bit. He saw me go into the mountain bike trail and razzed asking if I had stopped to take a dump. He saw me come out many spots ahead and said good work. I buzzed by the Nature Center aid station, filled my bottle and snagged a couple of gels.

Up to this point I had been eating a gel every 30 minutes on the dot. I decided at that moment I would up it to every 20 for the second half of the race and hoped to pick up the pace as well. I was all alone and would not see another runner for the entire second lap of the hiking trail section. I put in an earbud and tried to que up some tunes, but my hands and gloves were soaked. Touch screens don't take so well to this. I stripped off a glove with my teeth careful to not let it turn inside out and still had trouble because nothing I had was dry, NOTHING! Somehow I got the Girl Talk - All Day album to start and let it be. I had spent days constructing a play list for this race, but it wasn't going to happen. At this point I felt fantastic and had no doubts about finishing. In fact, I started to choke up a bit at the thought and had to force a smile to stifle the pending tears.

On the second loop all runners are required to check in at the aid stations (prevents course cutting to a degree I guess). As I approached the Peppermint Road station I yelled, "Scotty Scott, I need your help." Scott was manning the station alone and sheltering the weather in his truck. "Scott, I need you to fill this bottle and get two of the white pills out of this bag. My hands and gloves are wet and I can't open it." In the bag I had my S! caps (salt tablets) and knew I needed to get a dose in. I had gotten the bag out a mile earlier only to realize I wouldn't be able to open it without stopping and stripping off my gloves again. I was way to concerned about keeping pace and had made friends with Scott the night before as he came out to the Buffalo Rose for dinner. Scott was awesome and came running out to greet me prior to the station so he could grab my handheld. I gratefully took the caps, chugged some HEED, checked in, and took off. A super efficient stop and still not another runner in sight.

Scott, testing out the trail cams. Thanks for helping me fuel up!

The Potato Creek RD, better known as Senator Brett (@senatorbrett). Thanks for hosting a great race!

I had been feeling it coming on for a while and hoped it would pass, but the urge returned. Without a doubt I needed to make another bathroom stop, this time for the number 2 variety. I ran a long open section of the hiking trails without seeing another human and decided at the next turn to leap 10 yards off trail and drop shorts. I always always carry a ziploc with toddler wipes. I took care of business in record time and skipped off feeling lighter and faster. This was mile 17. The rest of the hiking trails were uneventful and pleasant.

I came up to the Nature Center aid station and hollered ahead that I was coming. One of the awesome aid station workers filled my handheld, another ripped a gel top off for me at my request. I sucked down the gel and some HEED (I made sure to chug 2 cups at every aid station) and headed into the last leg of my race, the mountain bike trails. Again I was all alone and the only runner I had seen was a gentleman headed into the hiking trail section as I left. I had met him pre race and knew he was a marathoner. I gave him a giant grin and a fist bump as we passed. I think it made me feel better than it did him. He later told me after the race that I looked like I was flying. Runners are great people.

My plan was to run this final 6.5 miles with everything I had, but my hamstrings were starting to tighten up and feel just a bit burned out. By mile 22 they were hurting and I found myself wanting to take walk breaks. I took one at mile 22 just long enough to take a gel and recognize that with every step I was setting a new distance PR. I convinced myself I was almost done and could take any amount of pain for the last 4 miles to get a strong finish. Also, I SAW ANOTHER RUNNER COMING! "Oh shit what do I do" I thought to myself. It was a female runner who looked strong. I saw her behind me during some long switchbacks and estimated she was trailing by less than a minute. I had no idea what position I was in, but was determined not to lose it. I worked hard to get what I had. I should be honest, I especially didn't want to lose a spot to a girl. I trudged forward and started formulating a plan. I expected her to catch me, and she did. The last I looked at her, she was about 20 yards behind. Within 20 seconds I could hear her splashing through the muddy single track right on my tail. First off, I purposely refused to look at her. If she wanted to pass she would have to take it from me (this was tight single track). I slightly increased pace and wondered, "might she have burned up trying to catch me and will she fall off?" Half a minute later she was still knocking on the door. I had refused to look at my Garmin for anything more than elapsed time over the past few miles so I could know when to eat. This meant I didn't know exactly how many miles were left. From the best of my memory of landmarks I estimated we had about 2+ miles to the finish.

This is the runner who was coming up behind me and spurred my end of race surge. Turns out she wasn't a marthoner and finished a strong 60k placing second only a few minutes behind the winner. She is running over the infamous boulder pile I kept looking for as I knew it meant the end was nearing.

At this moment I decided to grit down and go. This was a fucking race and I was going to race with everything I had left. My handheld was empty, tunes were killed, and had popped my final gel half a mile ago. I cranked it up to the next gear and focused on nothing but the trail 15-20 feet ahead. Everything else became a blur. Much to my surprise, my legs felt better running faster. All that interval work paid off. It felt like I was running 8 minute miles (though I knew it not to be true, but still refused to look at my Garmin). There was nothing to do at this point but run. Not once did I turn around, but I knew she was gone and wasn't planning to keep up. When I made the decision to surge, I knew there was a possibility of burning up entirely and having to walk, but my cardio was spot on and my legs felt the best they had all day. "When am I going to reach the boulder pile I kept thinking," as I was desperately hunting down all the landmarks I could remember from the first lap. I soon enough found the spot and blazed across the boulders without faltering a step. Eventually I came out of the mountain bike trails and felt an adrenaline rush. All I had to do was run by the Nature Center aid station one last time and then a short 1/4 mile connector trail to the finish. I had zero intention of slowing down to check in and yelled "Josh Baker, number 5, going in for the marathon finish" and that's when I saw him. There was another runner ahead. My first thought was he must be doing the 60k and about to turn off for his final 13 mile loop. He didn't turn and headed toward the finish! He heard me shout my off my check-in and turned back to see me sprinting. The only thing he could do was turn toward me as I passed and say, "you got this."

I came careening into the finish, slammed down my handheld and collapsed. The flood gates opened and all those tears I had been choking back came pouring out. Never have I felt so fantastic or accomplished. As I sat and cried in disbelief that I had been able to overcome my issues with alcohol to finishing a marathon, I was overcome with gratefulness for life. The race volunteers all looked at me kind of funny. I assumed it was because I was crying. The RD's pup was there and he came and licked the tears from my face, and an older gentleman walked over with what I assumed was my finishers medal, but he had something else. A trophy? He leaned down and said, "Here, this is for you."

"No it's not, it can't be" I said seeing that it was a first place trophy.

"You earned it, you won the marathon" he said back to me and put the medal around my neck and the trophy in my hands.

Now the tears were back and the situation increased in the volume of surreal. I've never won a sporting event in my life. The volunteers asked how many marathons I had ran and I told them how this was my first. I was an open book and related how I had recently overcome some issues with drinking and focused my efforts on running and being healthy. I desperately needed a hug and asked if it would be alright. Of course it was I and gave every one there a hearty embrace, stumbled off to the car and called my mom.

Post race collapse, the furball is Steve.

Dining on a glorious fare of hotdogs and home made cupcakes. My life changed in another way that day as I was introduced to the cupcake sandwich. Never will I eat a cupcake the same way again. This woman was a secret fan of the Hoosier Trail Runner (a.k.a. 60k Ben).

The race has been over for a few days and the official results posted. It turns out I didn't win. I came in second. Not exactly sure what the scoop is. I think there was some suspicion of course cutting or they thought the guy who came in ahead of me was a slow half marathoners. I honestly don't know, but I have the trophy that says otherwise and anyone who wants to take it is welcome to try. The moment can never be taken away. I'm still a rookie runner and have no where to go but forward. I will get better, faster, stronger, and smarter. I will be back to Potato Creek next year and I will be aiming for victory. I don't care that I didn't actually win. I achieved all my goals and know I have so much more to give to the trail. These feet have a lot of miles to cover.

Moment of Glory: My official finishing time was 4:21:46 (9:59 average per mile). I placed 2/11 and my last two miles were the fastest of the entire run, 9:18 and 9:16. 

I got the scoop from race mom (the race director's wife who was heading the start/finish line) and it turns out she had left for 10 minutes to pick up a son from his soccer game. The superb volunteers working the finish line were a bit overwhelmed at my finish, and didn't know the real winner had beaten me there by 40 minutes, that dude smoked the course. I hope I get to race him again next year.

Official Potato Creek Website. Find the official results and keep tabs for signing up in next years race. I want you all to race with me.

Be Strong

"The Lord said Joshua,

Be Strong and Have Courage,

and be not afraid.

for the Lord is with you,

each and every day."

It's a short song my grandmother wrote for me as a baby. I've come to realize it's a paraphrase of the verse Joshua 1:9. It was always comforting and meaningful to me. I bragged about it when I had the chance. She wrote similar short songs for each of my siblings and cousins when we were born. I'm the oldest of all the litters, so mine was the first. It was only in the last 3 years that I took the words to heart and moved beyond the simple awe that someone wrote a song for me. After a difficult trial of a divorce involving very young children I was for the first time alone. It was then I first turned to the message, "Be Strong and Have Courage."

As most of you know I spent some years turning to alcohol to endure difficulty and it was only in the last 5 months that I was able to have the courage to be at peace with who I am. To have the strength to leave the alcohol behind. Being sober is the single best decision I've ever made.

I've been fascinated by tattoos for as long as I can remember and knew I wanted one for at least the past 5 or so years. However, I've never felt good enough to deserve one. Like I'm not worthy. I should be in better shape physically, financially, and mentally. I set some ridiculous standards that I would have to achieve before I would allow myself get a tattoo, before I was worthy. Well 4 months of sobriety and 500 + miles of running later and I realized I am worthy and more importantly that I've always been good enough. Waiting until I achieve some impossible standard will mean waiting forever, literally.

With the encouragement of friends I set out to do something I've never had the courage to do. I got recommendations for artists I should check out and set to it. One guy's work stuck out in particular to me, something about the quality of the person creating the tattoo seemed to come through in the art and let me know this is where I needed to go. So I paid a visit to Colin Mcclain down at Skinquake in Bloomington. I knew from the get go that I'm no artist but for sure wanted an original piece. More than anything I wanted a banner that read "Be Strong" and had a certain affinity for classic eagle pieces. I conveyed those two things to Colin and he drew up something perfect for me.

I have to give a special thanks to my friend Sara for recommending the artist. She has a gorgeous half sleeve peacock that he did.

 Colin and I got along great for the 3 1/2 hours I sat with him, turns out we have similar stories and much in common. I enjoyed the entire process and getting to know Colin. Great dude to know and he does some awesome tattoos which you can check out HERE. If your an instagram person you can also view his work at the username colinpmclain.

One of my favorite moments of the experience came right after he put the stencil on my arm. There were a couple of other people in the shop getting tattoos at the time. One girl, Amy, who I had been chatting with while we were waiting had her jaw dropped as she exclaimed, "That's huge, I can't believe it's going to be your first tattoo." The other artists seemed genuinely interested coming by often to check it out as the piece progressed. It made me feel good. Colin told me it's rare for someone to get such a bad ass tattoo as their first.

 A progression of outline, to shaded outline without  color. The whole session took about 3 1/2 hours. We broke it down into 3 parts, outline, shading, color.


Did it hurt? Well sure it did, but pain is all relative to person and experience. I enjoyed what some might call the pain and tried to embrace the feeling for every second I could. It probably also helped that Colin made good conversation along the way, there were but a few moments of silence in our time together. The overwhelming desire for the outcome made any perceived pain minimal. I distinctly remember a few endorphin rushes as well, similar to the ones that sometimes flush 10 or so miles into a good run. I'm not going to lie, there was a huge amount of anxiety leading up to that first moment the tattoo pen pierced my arm. There is no adequate way to describe the feeling but I'll try. It's like a very mild burning feeling, but not one that would make you instinctively draw away. At the worst it's uncomfortable. Keep in mind that I also run 20+ miles at a time for fun, so I might not quite be normal.

Now that I've had the tattoo for a week, it already feels like it's a part of me (even though it literally is). Most importantly is I posses and absolute feeling like it was always meant to be. It provides a sense of security, not like in protection, but comfort in knowing that it's mine and no one can ever take it away. No matter where I go, no matter what happens, no matter what wrong or right is done this tattoo will forever be mine, and somehow that provides a measure of peace.









I would like to offer my gratitude to my best friend AJ (@ajylyman) for his advice, encouragement and listening to all my bullshit along while helping me sort my opinions and thoughts.  I also owe a very special thank you to @matchingtattoos whom I have never met, yet she was willing to call all her industry friends from over 900 miles away to find an artist for me to connect with. She provided invaluable support and encouragement. You're right, I do feel liberated!

Next  up is Have Courage and an antithesis image on my other arm. It won't be long to bring the balance.

AA The Beginners Guide: Am I an Alcoholic?

Are you an alcoholic? Probably not.

This is an incredibly difficult and loaded question. But if you're still with me, I will do what I can to help answer that question and tell you how and why I did. I see absolutely nothing wrong with alcohol. Drinking is fun. Getting drunk is fun. A drink can ease the pains of a stressful day or the jitters of a first date. If you are like most people, you can have a few drinks and then continue on with life. You can get drunk, if you want to, not because you have to. You probably don't black out for extended periods of time on a regular basis. Enjoying alcohol does not make you an alcoholic.

So, what does? You can do some internet searching and take a standardized questionnaire to find the answer. I find those things useless. If you are already asking yourself these types of questions, you know all the right answers to the test. I was never an alcoholic because I didn't drink everyday. Because I didn't wake up with the urge to drink. I never bottomed out and ended up on the streets. I kept a respectable social life, a job, and occasionally even had meaningful relationships with women. The real question, which you won't find on any standardized psychological test is this:

What happens when I drink?

It's the only question you really need to answer. Who cares how often, how much, alone, with others, and so on. The only thing that matters is the end result. Can you enjoy a few drinks and move on with life peacefully, or does it consistently lead to more drinking and chaos? If you drink once a month and end up in jail every time, you have a problem. My life had been heading toward chaos and doom for quite some time. Lucky for me, that path was illuminated early in my life. I saw what lay at the end if I kept up the drinking lifestyle and had experienced too much pain already. I don't want the pain and the only way for me to avoid certain doom and misery is to not drink at all. Most people can keep drinking and not have problems. When your alcoholic friends start getting concerned about your level of drunkenness and how you act, be concerned, very concerned.

For me, I'm either drinking or I'm not. However, there is and was one major exception. One need and desire even more powerful than my drinking, the need for love. If I was in a relationship, I could curb my drinking without much pain. But only in the confines of the relationship and being with that person. Anything outside of it and I was up to my usual habits. The dual life could only go on for so long before my drinking problem would eventually become evident to my partner. Ultimately, the drinking would be one of if not the most destructive factor in ruining any love I ever shared.

In the end, no one can tell you that you are an alcoholic. Only you can know. For me, I know beyond a doubt that to live the life I want, I had to have the courage to not drink ever again. Does that make me an alcoholic? Probably, but that's just fine by me.

AA The Beginners Guide: The people of

That guy has probably been to a meeting or two. But so has this guy on the right. That's a rather douchey photo of me taken during a lengthy New Year's day long blackout. My point being, I'm not that much different than the homeless bearded man. Booze is the great equalizer.

To begin, let me put in my disclaimer that I've only attended groups in my locale. So any generalizations I make, keep that it mind. I do however believe that just like alcoholism itself, the types of people you are likely to experience in meetings also transcends time, place, and culture. Only the faces and accents vary.

Let me tell you a funny backstory about my first experience with AA. It was actually quite some time ago, long before I had any realization that I might one day (perhaps was already) be an alcoholic or have a problem with drinking in anyway. I was a freshman in college and really fine tuning my drinking skills. The college experience and drinking is a chapter of its own, so we will leave it at that until another day. A friend of mine was pulled over, blew a .08 (the legal limit) but was underage. He took some sort of plea deal and part of his bargain was that he had to attend 10 AA meetings. My friend, being of "enterprising" character, decided to delegate his attendance to these meetings to a trusted friend. He also had the bankroll to pay me handsomely for my time. You may ask, if he was legally obligated to be there, how could you attend for him? Well the answer is in the name, Alcoholics (wait for it) Anonymous. No one has to prove who they are, there is no formal governing body to meetings. In fact the people who sign off on the court documents are under no obligation to sign their real name. There is no official record to tie an individual to any meeting. Looking back on it, I could have skipped all the meetings and signed my initials to all 10 meeting entries.

I however was excited and saw this as a sort of social experiment. Secretly, didn't want my buddy to know I might have done this without the pay, I was excited to scout out some meetings and meet these mysterious alcoholics. Turns out Crawfordsville, IN isn't exactly ripe with AA meeting opportunities, but there was one at the church down the street from my fraternity, perfect. The experiment was pretty much a fail. The meetings were sparsely attended. I remember two people. One older guy who always seemed a bit frazzled. He had an overgrown buzzcut of gray hair and a beard to match. He wore disheveled clothing and always had a dribbled coffee stain on the front of his button down shirt. From what I remember, he chaired all the meetings I attended. He told stories of blacking out for 5-6 days at a time and waking up across multiple state lines. I didn't believe him simply because I didn't think that type of feat was possible. I'd experienced my share of blackouts already, but for days at a time? I wouldn't doubt a story of that caliber now, but it definitely takes the power of drugs and booze to achieve blackouts of that stature. Then there was the old Native American dude. He never said a single word. Most stoic character I have ever come across in my life. He just sat in a chair against the white brick wall, arms crossed.

Everyone else I remember seemed to be court mandated and cutting up the whole time. There were probably some serious people, but the meetings I made were sparsely attended. Looking back, I'm pretty sure I was attending day meetings. Didn't want to interfere with my own drinking, which of course only respectably took place at night. Knowing what I know now, of course those meetings are attended by much fewer people. Now on to the people I meet now and likely what you will meet in some variation or another.

I can say with sincerity that most of the people attending AA are quite serious about the program and a testament to its power. If you're like me, the first thing you are going to think about in an AA meeting is a bunch of old blue collar men sitting around sipping coffee from small white styrofoam cups. That's largely and accurate portrayal. The "old-timers" are ever present at all meetings. Some have been sober decades and find that AA is the way of life that keeps them that way. Alcoholism affects people regardless of economic class and status. Many people lose everything to their drinking, which you often notice includes multiple teeth and a large part of their health. Listen closely to those that have lost it all, they have wise things to say and serve as a warning to the devastation alcohol can have.

Now while on the topic of discussion, here is what to expect people to say. Some will offer sage advice based on personal experience and be relevant to the topic. Listen to these people. Some of them will astound you. Old biker looking dudes with ZZ top-esque beards offer some of the best. Some people will be in crisis mode and have nothing relevant to say, this may be you. Listen to these people if you are not one, remember you don't want to have to be like this anymore. It's just fine that they have nothing relevant to say and can only go on at great lengths about the now. They need to be heard, they may or may not be back next week. You will have the court appointed attendees. They will likely not say anything and sit with arms crossed in defiance. That's cool too. You will then get the type who just repeat every AA saying there is. Basically they are concerned with saying the "right" things and making it overly clear that they are staying sober. I'm of the opoinion all these types are probably still drinking. The excessive "I have no desire to drink, I'm taking it one day at a time" look at me I'm working the program language is obvious. Anyway, don't pay too much attention to them, other than as example of who not to be like.

My advice is say whatever comes to mind, never pass. Offer your stream of conscience on whatever is rattling through your brain. I find that at the beginning of discussion I might have some point or story I want to tell, but by the time 5 other people have talked I have so many new things to relate to that my brain is like a derailed locomotive going 150 mph. So I just start talking and it helps. I don't care how shitty you think you feel, or uninterested you might be, joining in the group is what makes it work. This designed aspect of AA is brilliant. It's a way of offering group therapy, a proven psychological technique, to drunks without telling them they are going to therapy. Plus, it's free.

AA The Beginners Guide: An inside look

I didn't want to write much about the program before I put more time in, but the gears of been spinning hard these past few weeks. So with warning I tell you I've been immersed in the AA culture for about 6 weeks. I can't necessarily give you a thorough unbiased review, but this blog is for sharing my progress as a man in recovery. I'm at a significant crossroad and it's time to write. My intention is to help all understand what an AA meeting is like. Sort out what Hollywood has gotten right and where they've steered you wrong.

I've mentioned this previously, but I was scared of walking into my first AA meeting.  Afraid of rejection, the core of all my self esteem issues. What if I wasn't accepted as a real alcoholic? What if they just saw me as some poser 29 year old kid who hasn't bottomed out enough to be a real alcoholic? Then where would I be, outcast and rejected again. The whole idea of being a poser alcoholic is insane, but that's seriously what an addict's self-esteem is like. My experience was the polar opposite. I was welcomed and embraced with warmth and enthusiasm. Instantly I shared a bond with everyone in the room, alcohol. We've all been slave to it and are seeking emancipation from it.

Every meeting starts with a reading of "How AA Works". This is followed by reading "The 12 steps and traditions of AA", a report of new and old business, a welcoming and recognition of new comers to the group, sobriety birthdays and milestones, a secretary report from the last meeting, and a few various reports that aren't crucial to the newcomer or the meeting itself. When it came the appropriate time, I introduced myself for the first time in what seemed to be proper AA form, "Hi I'm Josh. I'm an alcoholic." Just like the movies. People clapped and welcomed me to the group, told me to "keep coming back." I was given a beginners token symbolizing 24 hours of sobriety and the "take it one day at a time" message AA promotes. I've come to learn you will hear those two things a lot, "One day at at time" and "keep coming back". When they got to milestones I was proud to announce I had just surpassed 30 days of sobriety. Again more fanfare and I was presented with a red token symbolizing the achievement. Typically the group will recognize those achieving 30 and 90 days, 6 months, one year and multiples of years at each meeting.

From there expect a short reading of some sort from the AA book (affectionately called "The Big Book") or some other endeared alcoholic literature. It may also be a speaker meeting in which someone tells their story. Discussion groups are typically "closed" meetings, meaning only alcoholics should be in attendance. Leave your loved ones at home unless they are also alcoholics. There are open meetings, anyone can attend, alcoholic or not. Addicted to drugs and alcohol? That's cool, most of us have some sort of drug use issues and addictions, you're still in the right place. But the focus of AA is the alcohol addiction. If you don't have alcohol issues, there are NA (Narcotics Anonymous) groups that can serve you. My personal opinion is an addict is an addict, doesn't matter what substance, we're all the same. After the reading, the group may split up into smaller discussion groups, or stay as one. It depends on how large of an assembly it is. Most meetings are scheduled to take place within one hour and are earnest to abide by it.

Discussion works like this. Someone, usually the chair person of the meeting, starts by giving their thoughts on the days topic and how it relates to their life and sobriety as it is or was. They can say whatever the hell they want, anything goes. Typically the person leading off discussion is one who has relevant and wise things to say, listen up. The right to talk is then passed to the right or left and the next person in the circle speaks. This goes on until everyone has had a chance, or the hour runs out. It is perfectly acceptable to pass and just listen for the night. In my next post I will get a lot deeper into the discussion aspect.

I sometimes find it hard to listen until I've had my say. I have to think long and hard about words that come out of my mouth. I'm not a good off the cuff speaker, which is why I much prefer to write. Most of the time I try to share something about my personal life, past or present, and how it relates to the nights topic and my quest to stay sober. It's also a good time to express concerns or troubles. There is no cross talk during the group, meaning you only talk about your personal experiences and how you have learned or grown. Never offer direct advice to others or butt in during someones turn to talk. If you are truly in the right place, you'll inevitably find yourself head nodding in agreement as people tell their stories like they were your own. No one's demise to alcohol is unique, our stories are transcending of time and person. Only the locations and details differ.

Typically the meeting ends after everyone has had a chance to speak and then closed with the Lord's prayer. I'm not sure why the Lord's prayer. AA is supposed to be unaffiliated with any particular religion by it's founding principles. Anyway, expect to hold hands (yeah for real in a big circle) and recite the Lord's prayer. Don't worry, I didn't know it either and yes it's extremely awkward. Wait, it's not quite over. After the prayer everyone keeps holding hands and chants, "Keep coming back, it works if you work it!" To emphasize the awkwardness they swing your entwined hands up and down to the cadence of the chant. Just relax and go with it. This may be a regional thing unique to suburban Bible Belt AA groups.

Meeting over and time to mingle, put chairs away, go home. Most people will make a line for the door so they can smoke. The majority of people in AA smoke. Not all, but far more than half. Expect it. I don't have a problem with it, but I find it a relevant observation to report. I used to smoke so it stands out to me.

I've been to various meetings in my area of Indy. Every location has been a Christian church of some sort. I've looked through the directory of Indianapolis meetings and there are more than 400. Seems about half take place in a church. Many are listed as meeting in some sort of club, but I suspect if you Google the address it brings up a church. Some take place at dedicated mental health centers and others are community meeting places. Here is a link to meeting directory.

I can tell you the groups aren't officially affiliated with the church, clubs, or meeting centers. This is achieved through the group paying a nominal rent to the facility each week or month. There are no dues to be a group member, but collection baskets are passed at the start of each meeting. The meetings are self funded by attendees. Most people throw in a dollar or some change. It's a heck of a lot cheaper than a bar tab.

Here is what Hollywood got right, the setting. Expect cheap folding chairs, drab basement walls, dim fluorescent lighting, crappy coffee, store bought donuts and cookies. You are welcome to what you like. I've chosen not to partake so as not to associate meetings with junk food. Here is what Hollywood got wrong. There is no professional counselor in these group sessions. This organization is entirely amateur run. Now I don't mean to suggest a lack of expertise, wisdom, and efficiency, but that their are no licensed mental health professionals keeping the group on track and no one is getting paid. In the movies you always see some ring leader of the group who appears to be a licensed counselor of some sort. Expect to see an everyday average Joe leading the group, or better yet a biker dude who looks like he is a ZZ Top roadie. Seriously, these types are some of the most awesome people in AA and will shock you with how well spoken they are. On that note, stayed tuned for my next post: The people of AA.