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!

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.

Crewing for Recovery

"Good judgement comes from experience. Experience comes from bad judgment." Mark Twain

(I haven't checked the accuracy of this quote, but it sounds Mark Twainy to me and deeply resonates.)

As I move forward with my life and my newfound identity (you know, embracing myself as an alcoholic and a runner, a person in recovery, a man with hope developing a plan) I'm finding all kinds of parallels to recovery and running. It's safe to say we all have that voice; the one who tells you that you can't or you're not good enough. The task at hand is simply too hard and beyond your capability. All of you runners, or anyone who has even attempted any endurance activity at all, knows this voice well. It's the one that tries to keep you inside on a day with bad weather. It's the one that pops up in the first 3 miles of a long run and says you just don't have it in you today, or you can turn around now and still say you did something today, nothing to be ashamed of. Well those of us in recovery, anyone trying to kick any bad habit, have the same voice trying to poison us with the same message; "You can't do this!"

Right now I'm happy, ecstatic, in tune, motivated, hopeful, and downright excited about being sober. Don't get me wrong, I still have the urge to drink, it's early in this new life. But I have confidence. I also know myself well, and some of this excitement is bound to wear off. I know there are going to be some darker days ahead, life works that way. The excitement and the newness will wane, and that voice might come knocking. So what do I do?

Well, I've been listening to some really great podcasts from the guys and gals of Trail Runner Nation about ultra running. I have plans to conquer distances greater than the almighty 26.2. But steps, the 26.2 is getting checked off first and I'm pumped for April 28th when I run the Potato Creek Full Trail Marathon. In one of the shows they were interviewing some seasoned 100 mile ultra runners and talking about the emotional spectrum that comes with running such awesome distances. There are extreme highs, and extreme lows. Nobody that runs 100 miles zips along without thinking at some point that it's just not possible and they should drop out. From what I understand the lows are very very very low. After 50-70 miles your body and mind are stripped of everything, you don't know how to respond and are often looking to those around you to figure out how you should feel. 

It's kind of like this. Think about how when a toddler runs into a table and hits his head and has that initial moment of shock. The tot then looks around befuddled to his parents and is trying to figure out how to respond. If the parent immediately goes "Oh my God, are you ok, you poor baby" the kid is sure to cry every time. That's how the parent has told him to feel. If the parent laughs or benignly neglects the incident (in good nature and keeping an eye out to make sure it's not serious) and isn't shocked, the tot will laugh it off or just keep on trucking. It's a lot like that in these moments of running. Ultra runners need a team around them that give them that positive feedback, tell them how to feel in a supportive way. Embrace the pain and keep kicking ass. The point is that you have to train for these moments, you have to be prepared that at some point you are going to feel like a truck and trailer ran you over.

It's also like that in recovery. I know I feel great now, and I'm going to for a while. How long? I can't say. But eventually, it's going to ware off a bit, the motivation is going to wane, bumps in the road will come and bad things will happen. When they do, I'm going to have the old habit wanting to come around. That little voice is going to say "This is too hard, you can't do it, just drink this once, it's ok." Eventually, the truck is going to hit me and I have to be prepared. So I'm keeping this blog, setting goals that I can't achieve if I am drinking, and surrounding myself with positive support and people who understand.  I don't envision myself becoming a broken shell of a man sitting in a crappy basement room of a small church attending AA meetings angry and jaded for the rest of my life. I'm just being real and acknowledging there will be points when using is going to seem much more appealing than it does right now and I need to be ready for it. My success depends on preparation.

Ultra runners have a "crew" for big events. People that run with them through portions of the race, set up at aid stations and make sure they get what they need, and give them the positivity and encouragement one needs to conquer 100 miles. So thank you to everyone who is jumping on my crew. I need you and am going to need you more one day. Every word of support is more valuable than you know. Thanks for being on my crew everyone!

Photo courtesy new friend and crew member Ben L. over at Hoosier Trail Runner

An Alcoholic Running to Recovery

A little pre-amble then off to to the post. This is a difficult story for me to tell so I present you with two. One more serious, and another covering a recent snow filled run this past weekend. The run is in pictures and orange italics. The other, well that's obvious. The story is evolving, and more will be added as time goes on. This may be difficult for some of you to read. Shocking to some, particularly family and close friends, but it needs to be said and this is probably the least awkward way. I appreciate the support from you all.

First stop on my 10.6 solo trail and road run (just over 3 miles in), the "Galyan's Bear" at Eagle Creek. All you Indy folk will know this one. I never understood this giant rust covered bear. It looks exactly like the Galyan's bear (Galyan's was Indy's sporting goods store before Dick's bought them out). There are no wild bears in Indiana, except for this one. You might not be able to tell from the picture, but it's about 40 feet tall. I snapped a few pictures, downed some GU, found the trail head and off I went.

So the the year has barely begun and I can already reflect on a number of accomplishments. I didn't make any specific New Year's resolutions, but am keeping up with the trends I started at the end of last year. Most importantly I am celebrating more than a month (43 days) of sobriety and all the positive changes that have come with it. I recently celebrated my first New Year's in a decade that I can remember all of, my 29th birthday, and the end to a more than decade long abusive relationship with booze. I've long been a walking contradiction of an alcoholic and fitness wannabe. It was never that I was an everyday drinker. Didn't drink from sunup to sundown, except for on "special occasions". I've always been employed and never needed that "hair of the dog" to get my day started. So I didn't fit that stereotypical description of an alcoholic, at least not in my own mind. Yet, I had a nagging voice in the back of my conscious asking, "do you have a problem, are you an an alcoholic, just maybe?" I dismissed it, more like gagged and bound it, hid most of my drinking from people who loved me, and kept on partying.

I rationalized my drinking as normal, but I still knew that I drank differently than everyone else. Once that first drink goes in, my main focus is where's the next? My brain responds to alcohol a little differently. I get that first rush of endorphins and crave more. I have a 10 drink minimum (weeknight drinking) and easily 20 or more on a weekend night. Light weeks might be one weeknight and all weekend. Heave weeks could be almost everyday, and of late (especially after the broken foot) had become the norm. I usually disguised my number of drinks by having higher alcohol content craft brew (loved my big ass IPA's), and few very stiff cocktails in between. I could stop at a few, but it's rare and torturous as all I can think about is the next drink. All along the way I've had an off and on again affair with working out, lifting weights, doing crossfit, and a new found love for running I picked up this past fall. The trouble is I never saw the progress I really wanted. I was always battling that hangover, the lack of energy, and all those extra calories. I would fall off the workout wagon every 3 months or so and hop back on after few months of binge drinking harder than normal.

Second picture along the way. I wasn't sure if the trail I was following was ever going to cross this creek so I made my own crossing and gingerly hopped on this snow and ice crusted log. It was an adventure run of sorts anyway. I've never covered this distance on my own. Running in groups is awesome, but I also love running on my own. Right now I prefer to run without music. The calming cadence of my feet and the sounds of nature are all the music I need.

So why the change, why now? I was lucky enough to find my way to a substance abuse recovery class (that journey is another story that I'm not ready to publicly share). I didn't necessarily want the help, but I wasn't entirely opposed to it either.  With caution I proceeded, with hesitancy I approached. Basically what I found is that I was forced to unbound that nagging voice that had long been in the back of my mind; to face who I really was and examine my relationship with alcohol. There have been moments where if I had the courage, I would have changed long ago. But now, for the first time ever, I really want to be sober. I'm enjoying it immensely. I've learned and am learning lots about myself. It's hard at times, like when I'm not in the best of moods. Normally I would fix that right up with a drink, but now I have to deal with myself. The good news is I like myself, my sober self anyway. I've made a lot of bad decisions in my day under the influence and driven by the desire to use when sober. I've been neglectful and selfish at times. I've made a fool of myself far too many times, put others at risk, and most importantly to acknowledge, I've hurt people that I love very deeply. One relationship in particular where the choices I made is the biggest regret of my life.

This is the old road that runs down the west side of Eagle Creek after a fresh snowfall. Someone and their dog beat me to being the first ones on it that day, but I had it all to myself. Running has been a great way for me to get to know myself and what I am capable of.

In the past 43 days I've accomplished more in this budding amateur running career of mine than the past 4 months combined. So far this month I've logged more than 90 miles. I ran my first 13.1 (A Personal Best). Made a solo run to and from my favorite trails (something I dreamed of when I first started running). I signed up for and am running my first half marathon race next weekend (a report will be written) and am announcing signing up for my first full marathon. I will be running the Potato Creek Half/Full/Ultra in northern Indiana on April 28th with some new running friends. I have almost completed my substance abuse recovery classes. I've attended my fist ever AA meeting and am forging relationships with other people in recovery.

This is my favorite view in Eagle Creek. I posted a picture from this same view in the fall and have been waiting for a snowy day to get a winter shot. So in all I covered 10.6 miles in 1:53. I was even able to crank out the last 4 miles of road at a sub 9 minute/mile pace. It's my favorite run yet, I loved every step of snow covered sidewalk, street, and trail.

Now that I have some written reflection, I do have some goals for the coming year. I plan to keep developing new friendships in the running community and developing the ones that have started, discovering who I am, pushing my physical limits, and enjoying life not worrying about that next drink. I will run my first marathon and maybe even greater distance. I will spend more quality time with my kids and family. Maybe I will even find the six pack I have always really wanted. 

My name is Josh and I'm an alcoholic, running to recovery!