I am sitting at a Starbucks in Fountain Hills, Arizona. I had a
tough day at The Javelina 100 Saturday- but I am feeling good today and
ready to head out on the next great mission soon enough. For now I am
going to rest, bring my training down a notch, and try to let my body
heal for a month or two. I have had a epic year and I think my body is
just a little tired. In the mean time my mind and heart are 100% in tact
and I cant wait for the chance to go run again- as my friend Caballo
Blanco used to say "People run because they are happy"
The rest of what follows here is just an update for my friends and
family on whats in my head and where I am going for the next few
months... in case you were curious. If you could care less, please go back to
my Facebook page for some llama pictures, random nonsense and trail
running speak ;)
I am feeling pretty damn good about
life in general right now dispute some circumstances that would seem
stressful. On one hand I am an unemployed 41 year old divorced dad with
no money to my name- but I am also the richest man alive in almost ever
other sense of wealth. My sobriety, my kids, all my amazing friends, my
loved ones, my work at The Hero Foundation and a general sense of
gratitude keep me as close to "balanced" as I could imagine.
I
have had my head in two different worlds for the last several months and
I see big things coming in the future. One world is the work that we
are trying to do at The Hero Foundation/ The Superman Project. It is
difficult to communicate the emotions I feel when I hear from people all
over the country who have been affected by addiction and have heard
about who we are and what we do. I am inspired again and again by the
human spirit and the will of people to not give up and to fight for a
brighter day. In my mind I see the huge impact we can have on the world
if I am up to the challenge of getting the word out and building our
group into a viable large scale resource. But the selfless help that I
receive from my friends in the form of time, thought, donations, and
genuine support is what has kept the wheels turning and will ultimately
build this organization- I know I cannot do this alone. And if you are
curious- in response to the momentum we have built to date we are going
to double up our efforts and charge forward with an aggressive agenda
in 2013 to touch more lives.
The other docking bay for
my focus has been trying to get all of my thoughts written down in an
organized format- I guess you could call it "writing my book" but the
more I write the more I realize that I am still healing, and this is
just another part of my recovery. I have been writing for about a year
now and its coming down to the last stretch. There have been times when
the writing stopped abruptly and didn't continue for months- other times
when the words fly effortlessly. The first part of book, the "drop into
the gutter" you might call it, was actually much easier to write than I
had expected- it was emotional and painful, but it all came out so fast
I could barely keep up. It was an outpouring of all the horrible days,
hours and seconds that ticked off as I brought myself closer and closer
to the brink of death by way of my destructive behaviors. I had thousands
of horrible low points to choose from, I only had to select the ones
that seemed the most vivid and recall what I was feeling.
The
second part of the book, the more "inspiring' part if you will, is a
different beast. I have found it hard to tell the tale of my climb out
of the gutter and this is what I figured to be the easiest part of the
process. The difficulty in writing may in many ways be because I feel I
am still climbing out. I haven't reached the summit of my rebound and
the truth is I never will. This recovery of mine and this life is always
about moving forward, and always about climbing higher; never about
arriving. The truth is, I feel I was unprepared to tell anyone about the second part of my
story as there was so much of the first part that I have left out- in even my own
memories. So much I was unsure about myself and my past. I know many
people think that I share way too much as it is, and maybe they are
right, but it was time for me to take a real hard look backwards before recording my current status for posterity. It should be no big surprise to know that I have been running for years before I ever put on a pair of trail shoes.
So here I am now, I have tackled some more of the demons of my past. I
have grown up a lot over the last year or so, and I am finally ready to
finish what I started in terms of writing down my thoughts and
experiences. I have parked for the time being. I have drawn the finish
line for my story and I will write about how I got to that place (which
is the finish line of the 2011 Leadville 100 if you are curious) I think
the reason I couldn't finish my book sooner is because I needed to be
farther ahead in the road to get perceptive on where I am and where I
was. Looking back now I am finally ready to write my wrongs.
Dave.
My name is David Clark. I am a 43 year old father of three, sober ultra runner and running coach. This blog is comprised of my training, my personal reflections, and my efforts to try to give back to the world through my non profit "The Superman Project" Please type in your email address to follow my blog by email
Monday, October 29, 2012
Sunday, September 9, 2012
American Heroes Run- September 8th, 2012
In 1776 a bunch of farmers and poorly armed militia took on the largest military force on the planet. They were lead by men who had every reason to keep the status quo- wealth, power and societal accolade. But the desire for freedom, the hunger for the pursuit of happiness and the promise of self government moved these mean to risk all they had including their very lives to fight.
As the largest underdog the world has ever seen- we won and fought for that freedom and that future. Today that spirit flows through the veins of every American- whether your history started on these shores or your spirit carried you here from elsewhere- we are all here because we believe in the underdog and we are willing to fight for a better day.
This weekend I saw this American spirit in full affect. Sure it was only a run around Rogers Grove Park- but it was something more than that. I saw courage and conviction that went beyond what you would expect on a typical weekend. I saw people dig deep into their souls. I saw people find mental and physical strength they didn't know they had- and I saw people fighting and moving forward to finish and to honor their families, their country and their own hearts.
I thought of all soldiers, policemen and firefighters who have in the past sacrificed all to protect our us and our nation. And I thought of those men who are now in the breach willing to do the same.
I would submit that even though on the surface this was just a "run around the park" these men, past and present, would be proud and honored by the guts and spirit of the effort in Longmont yesterday.
On 9/11 in the face of the worst attack on America in it values we did not crumble- in fact we grew strong - we stood tall and showed the world the very best of what it mean to be American. We are all heroes. We are all one. We are all strong.
David Clark.
As the largest underdog the world has ever seen- we won and fought for that freedom and that future. Today that spirit flows through the veins of every American- whether your history started on these shores or your spirit carried you here from elsewhere- we are all here because we believe in the underdog and we are willing to fight for a better day.
This weekend I saw this American spirit in full affect. Sure it was only a run around Rogers Grove Park- but it was something more than that. I saw courage and conviction that went beyond what you would expect on a typical weekend. I saw people dig deep into their souls. I saw people find mental and physical strength they didn't know they had- and I saw people fighting and moving forward to finish and to honor their families, their country and their own hearts.
I thought of all soldiers, policemen and firefighters who have in the past sacrificed all to protect our us and our nation. And I thought of those men who are now in the breach willing to do the same.
I would submit that even though on the surface this was just a "run around the park" these men, past and present, would be proud and honored by the guts and spirit of the effort in Longmont yesterday.
On 9/11 in the face of the worst attack on America in it values we did not crumble- in fact we grew strong - we stood tall and showed the world the very best of what it mean to be American. We are all heroes. We are all one. We are all strong.
David Clark.
Monday, July 30, 2012
One Year Ultra- Seven Years Sober
I am sitting here in front of my computer thinking about the last twelve months of my life, and its overwhelming to say the least... It has been almost seven years since I last had a drink of alcohol. On August 5th of 2005 I woke for perhaps the 3,000th consecutive day in a state of shame, pain and intoxication left over from the previous nights activities. I promised myself that bleak morning that I wasn't going to see this to the ultimate end; I wasn't going to die at 34 years old. I gave in. I conceded. I was a drunk and I needed help. Somehow by the grace of God I made it a day, then a month and then a year, then 6 years. And now It seems I have yet one more year without polluting my body or spirit with narcotics or alcohol. But I have to remind myself that what I actually have is 2551 days sober as of this moment- and nothing else is guaranteed. Not tomorrow or next week, just today. And yet that is more than I could ever ask for and is in fact enough to build a pretty great life.
So back to the task at hand- how do I even attempt to deconstruct this most current block of time and all that has transpired? And what can I possibly hope to take from it once I get it all down on paper anyway? Stranger still is the irony that is never lost on me as I approach my "sober birthday" every year- the irony that there are many years that I simply cant piece together in any coherent way. The time is erased due to the cloud of those years spent in inebriation. So I started this blog post by asking myself the most obvious question I could think of;
"What exactly happened during this year seven of my sobriety?"
Well, as cliche as its sounds it was almost easier to ask "What didn't happen?" I got divorced, I moved into a new house, I lost my job, I tried to start a new career, I fell in love and got engaged, I ran across the State of Colorado, I did the work of a recovering alcoholic and somehow managed to be a dad to the three most beautiful kids in the world along the way. I should be tired- and I am. But I still have fuel to go for miles...
Let me start with telling you what I am not going to do on this post. I am not going to candy coat or gloss over the lows that I experienced this year in an effort to create a positive entry that will be uplifting. It is just not my style to hold back like that. To selectively omit details is to be disingenuous, or at best it is less than honest. It is also a great way to eliminate the true beauty that lies in our lowest moments. I feel that the place where the dark voices come out and play is the place where we can ultimately find our brightest light and strongest self. It is where we touch our deepest instinct to survive and evolve to a higher and brighter path.
What I am going to do however, is share my thoughts and memories without refining the contents (as has been my pattern) and put it all out there for your consumption. I guess there is some hope on my part that when the crap hits the wall, it forms some sort of an interesting, compelling and perhaps bright modern "shit-art" piece resembling the last twelve months of my life. But you know what they say; one mans art is another mans shit... Actually, I don't think anyone says that at all. Oh well, you know what I mean. I can say now looking back that my year was beautiful, and tough, and humbling and empowering and introspective all at once. It was a scavenger hunt resulting in me finding the "me" that was lost at moments, and discovering a "me" that I never knew. I also had to pull out my tools and rebuild some structures that were torn down in the storm of mid life. Today as I write this I feel I am weather tested, stronger, smarter, perhaps even a little wiser. And I am more aware then ever how nice the world looks when the clouds blow off.
The new year and life started for me not on January 1st as is customary, but when my marriage came to an end in the early spring 2011. It is true that I had had some obvious problems in my marriage over the last several years, but everything else in my life was so insanely perfect that it became quite easy to put it aside and focus and all the good there was. I was sober, I was grateful for a second chance to be a dad and that was enough for the time being. Its amazing how you can live for years under a set of "operating procedures" that seem to make things work, and then one day it all crumbles in a blur of tears and changed addresses.
In the same month that I was moving my small assortment of personal items into my new place, I received a phone call from my employer. It seemed that I did such a bang up job of imparting my wisdom to the new ownership that my services as Vice President of Sales were no longer needed. "Thank you for saving the business... keep in touch" Not knowing what else to do, I figured this was a great chance to get out of the furniture business and switch to full time endurance coaching. I also committed to starting a non profit to hep recovering alcoholics and the morbidly obese... It seemed like a reasonable enough idea at the time. It was in fact a remarkable leap of faith.
So I went about my new business plan. I went to work for a while as trainer for Life Time Fitness. I started a coaching business with my buddy Alan called "Ninety Percent Mental" and I put "The Superman Project" to work with the help of many friends. My life was good- very good. I coached athletes. I helped people lose weight and I ran across the State of Colorado on the "300 Mile Recovery Run" My heart was overwhelmed and my life transformed yet again as I was contacted by many people struggling with addiction in their own lives or in their families'. I was even blessed with the opportunity to share my story and watch as people looked at themselves in a new way. I call it the "If that monkey can get sober and run- certainty I can do it" moment that some people find inspiring.
As I was trying to find myself in my new career pursuits I was also trying to find my "new" self as a father. Everything was different now- my undying love for my kids was the same- but everything else was yet to be determined. The first few months were a whirlwind of picking up kids, stealing moments at Jamba Juice, single night sleepovers and of course trying to explain all of what was happening to them. So we did what we could- we laughed and played and rediscovered each other at the park, the zoo and on the floor of my empty house.
It didn't take long for my love starved heart to find a place to rest. Through the years certain parts of my emotional spectrum had simply turned off, and now it seemed they were active and alert again. Emily and I had already known for sometime that our hearts were in sync with each other. And looking back it is apparent that even when it seemed impossible that we would ever be more than training partners (both of us in relationships) our friendship was already deeper and more profound than time would have dictated. Now in this new environment we just let it go and loved without fear or expectation.I asked her to marry me at the finish of the Boston Marathon (crazy girl said yes...)
But something was happening to me under the surface that was very hard for me to fully comprehend. I was still the same guy that I had been my whole life, but I was also very unfamiliar with the entire itinerary and content of my current life. I was less sure of who I was when I looked in the mirror. At times I felt I was watching myself from afar. Previously I had a clear cut idea of the future- a map and portrait of the direction I was heading. Now, not only had my old picture of the future washed away to a blank canvass, I was unsure if I could remember how to paint a new one. There was something hanging over or maybe hiding just under the surface of everything that I did. I was still grateful to be sober, and many areas my life had become so much better than they were before- So what was this looming doubt? It was failure. That's it- I felt like I failed. Somehow I failed my family, failed myself, failed my friends and worse; I felt selfish for making a new life. I felt like I was dying and being reborn at the same time. Or maybe I was becoming an entirely new living creature- a better and stronger person in some ways- yet unable to find the other familiar areas of my old self that were comfortable. Is it really possible to feel so amazingly good and yet so lost at the same time? I guess anything is possible in my crazy brain.
Life for me has normally been comprised of knowing what the most important things are and having my priorities established. This is not an easy thing to do when you sever yourself in half and create a new place to stand in the world. Things that seemed to fit nicely in place before are now in direct competition for priority. Recently at a race I learned a very valuable lesson about taking your eyes off the prize. I showed up without a purpose and left without a finish. I find that when we falter in our commitment to something we have willingly surrendered control of the outcome- sure you might get where you want, but it isn't secured. When we are no longer steering the boat- its like we are adrift at sea hoping to eventually float into a beautiful port where all our dreams will be fulfilled. I think for me that is inadvertently what happened over the last several months of my life. I could see so many things that I wanted to do.So many areas that I wanted to dedicate myself- but how could I make it all work? The answer came when I finally saw that which I had lost momentary glimpse off; The universal picture of my life. I was so busy looking at the things I wanted to do and the reasons I wanted to do them that I missed the big picture of the world. There is no "me" There is no "kids" there is no "Emily and I" there is certainly no one perfect outcome- its all just my precious gift from the universe to be able to have all these wonderful people and experiences for my short time here on earth. That is it- enjoy the hell out of them and never anyone wonder how you feel. Damn, thank God, I found my center again.
I feel like when I set off on this 12 month journey I was at the starting line of a one year ultra and I didn't even know it. I hit some highs and lows and I wanted to quit a few times. During the worst parts of it, I shut down my mind and focused it down to its most basic element- keep moving forward. I appeared to wake up in the middle of the race to find myself in a fight for a new life. In an ultra there are times when you cant even imagine the finish so you just try to imagine anything other than quitting. Then you find strength from pushing through that painful place. You keep going and you feel the power of your body rising. You can quantify the distance you are putting between you and the dark places of the past. You even start to get small pictures of the finish line- but not too fast- you don't want to get carried away too soon. You look at the beauty all around you and focus on the journey itself to distract your mind from the pain. Even as your body may tire, every second, every step forward makes you stronger. Eventually as you complete the distance you can see the race in its entirety- the beauty and struggle and the precious gift that each station was. I can see the entire race now. It took a year to travel this course and it was worth every step along the path.
The best analogy of what my 7th year of sobriety was came to me recently as I drifted off to sleep in my kids room. I just had an amazing two days with the kids and I was riding a high that no amount of drugs or alcohol could ever have launched me to. As my eyes closed I felt the world relax and create a peaceful place for me to float in- I found myself sitting in a boat. In my vision I had rowed out in to the center of a lake. I could see every thing important to me on the shore. I could see Emily. I could see my kids and my mom and dad. I could see my brothers and all my friends. I could see alcoholics and addicts and even finish lines and races standing there as if they were people. They were all looking directly at me and their eyes all seemed to be asking the same question "Where have you gone?" As I sat in my boat I was painfully aware that if I rowed to any one of these friends, I would be rowing away from the others... Not knowing what to do, I looked around to the places on shore where no one was standing. I saw a nice green section of land with a great view of the mountains and the water. It looked perfectly suited for me so I rowed my boat over to the vacant spot. As I reached the shore and climbed out of the boat I was greeted by all my loved ones on shore. They embraced me and welcomed me with love. I could see now that when I saw them from the center of the lake, they were not asking me where I went. They were asking me where I was going so they could meet me there.
So back to the task at hand- how do I even attempt to deconstruct this most current block of time and all that has transpired? And what can I possibly hope to take from it once I get it all down on paper anyway? Stranger still is the irony that is never lost on me as I approach my "sober birthday" every year- the irony that there are many years that I simply cant piece together in any coherent way. The time is erased due to the cloud of those years spent in inebriation. So I started this blog post by asking myself the most obvious question I could think of;
"What exactly happened during this year seven of my sobriety?"
Well, as cliche as its sounds it was almost easier to ask "What didn't happen?" I got divorced, I moved into a new house, I lost my job, I tried to start a new career, I fell in love and got engaged, I ran across the State of Colorado, I did the work of a recovering alcoholic and somehow managed to be a dad to the three most beautiful kids in the world along the way. I should be tired- and I am. But I still have fuel to go for miles...
Let me start with telling you what I am not going to do on this post. I am not going to candy coat or gloss over the lows that I experienced this year in an effort to create a positive entry that will be uplifting. It is just not my style to hold back like that. To selectively omit details is to be disingenuous, or at best it is less than honest. It is also a great way to eliminate the true beauty that lies in our lowest moments. I feel that the place where the dark voices come out and play is the place where we can ultimately find our brightest light and strongest self. It is where we touch our deepest instinct to survive and evolve to a higher and brighter path.
What I am going to do however, is share my thoughts and memories without refining the contents (as has been my pattern) and put it all out there for your consumption. I guess there is some hope on my part that when the crap hits the wall, it forms some sort of an interesting, compelling and perhaps bright modern "shit-art" piece resembling the last twelve months of my life. But you know what they say; one mans art is another mans shit... Actually, I don't think anyone says that at all. Oh well, you know what I mean. I can say now looking back that my year was beautiful, and tough, and humbling and empowering and introspective all at once. It was a scavenger hunt resulting in me finding the "me" that was lost at moments, and discovering a "me" that I never knew. I also had to pull out my tools and rebuild some structures that were torn down in the storm of mid life. Today as I write this I feel I am weather tested, stronger, smarter, perhaps even a little wiser. And I am more aware then ever how nice the world looks when the clouds blow off.
The new year and life started for me not on January 1st as is customary, but when my marriage came to an end in the early spring 2011. It is true that I had had some obvious problems in my marriage over the last several years, but everything else in my life was so insanely perfect that it became quite easy to put it aside and focus and all the good there was. I was sober, I was grateful for a second chance to be a dad and that was enough for the time being. Its amazing how you can live for years under a set of "operating procedures" that seem to make things work, and then one day it all crumbles in a blur of tears and changed addresses.
In the same month that I was moving my small assortment of personal items into my new place, I received a phone call from my employer. It seemed that I did such a bang up job of imparting my wisdom to the new ownership that my services as Vice President of Sales were no longer needed. "Thank you for saving the business... keep in touch" Not knowing what else to do, I figured this was a great chance to get out of the furniture business and switch to full time endurance coaching. I also committed to starting a non profit to hep recovering alcoholics and the morbidly obese... It seemed like a reasonable enough idea at the time. It was in fact a remarkable leap of faith.
So I went about my new business plan. I went to work for a while as trainer for Life Time Fitness. I started a coaching business with my buddy Alan called "Ninety Percent Mental" and I put "The Superman Project" to work with the help of many friends. My life was good- very good. I coached athletes. I helped people lose weight and I ran across the State of Colorado on the "300 Mile Recovery Run" My heart was overwhelmed and my life transformed yet again as I was contacted by many people struggling with addiction in their own lives or in their families'. I was even blessed with the opportunity to share my story and watch as people looked at themselves in a new way. I call it the "If that monkey can get sober and run- certainty I can do it" moment that some people find inspiring.
As I was trying to find myself in my new career pursuits I was also trying to find my "new" self as a father. Everything was different now- my undying love for my kids was the same- but everything else was yet to be determined. The first few months were a whirlwind of picking up kids, stealing moments at Jamba Juice, single night sleepovers and of course trying to explain all of what was happening to them. So we did what we could- we laughed and played and rediscovered each other at the park, the zoo and on the floor of my empty house.
It didn't take long for my love starved heart to find a place to rest. Through the years certain parts of my emotional spectrum had simply turned off, and now it seemed they were active and alert again. Emily and I had already known for sometime that our hearts were in sync with each other. And looking back it is apparent that even when it seemed impossible that we would ever be more than training partners (both of us in relationships) our friendship was already deeper and more profound than time would have dictated. Now in this new environment we just let it go and loved without fear or expectation.I asked her to marry me at the finish of the Boston Marathon (crazy girl said yes...)
But something was happening to me under the surface that was very hard for me to fully comprehend. I was still the same guy that I had been my whole life, but I was also very unfamiliar with the entire itinerary and content of my current life. I was less sure of who I was when I looked in the mirror. At times I felt I was watching myself from afar. Previously I had a clear cut idea of the future- a map and portrait of the direction I was heading. Now, not only had my old picture of the future washed away to a blank canvass, I was unsure if I could remember how to paint a new one. There was something hanging over or maybe hiding just under the surface of everything that I did. I was still grateful to be sober, and many areas my life had become so much better than they were before- So what was this looming doubt? It was failure. That's it- I felt like I failed. Somehow I failed my family, failed myself, failed my friends and worse; I felt selfish for making a new life. I felt like I was dying and being reborn at the same time. Or maybe I was becoming an entirely new living creature- a better and stronger person in some ways- yet unable to find the other familiar areas of my old self that were comfortable. Is it really possible to feel so amazingly good and yet so lost at the same time? I guess anything is possible in my crazy brain.
Life for me has normally been comprised of knowing what the most important things are and having my priorities established. This is not an easy thing to do when you sever yourself in half and create a new place to stand in the world. Things that seemed to fit nicely in place before are now in direct competition for priority. Recently at a race I learned a very valuable lesson about taking your eyes off the prize. I showed up without a purpose and left without a finish. I find that when we falter in our commitment to something we have willingly surrendered control of the outcome- sure you might get where you want, but it isn't secured. When we are no longer steering the boat- its like we are adrift at sea hoping to eventually float into a beautiful port where all our dreams will be fulfilled. I think for me that is inadvertently what happened over the last several months of my life. I could see so many things that I wanted to do.So many areas that I wanted to dedicate myself- but how could I make it all work? The answer came when I finally saw that which I had lost momentary glimpse off; The universal picture of my life. I was so busy looking at the things I wanted to do and the reasons I wanted to do them that I missed the big picture of the world. There is no "me" There is no "kids" there is no "Emily and I" there is certainly no one perfect outcome- its all just my precious gift from the universe to be able to have all these wonderful people and experiences for my short time here on earth. That is it- enjoy the hell out of them and never anyone wonder how you feel. Damn, thank God, I found my center again.
I feel like when I set off on this 12 month journey I was at the starting line of a one year ultra and I didn't even know it. I hit some highs and lows and I wanted to quit a few times. During the worst parts of it, I shut down my mind and focused it down to its most basic element- keep moving forward. I appeared to wake up in the middle of the race to find myself in a fight for a new life. In an ultra there are times when you cant even imagine the finish so you just try to imagine anything other than quitting. Then you find strength from pushing through that painful place. You keep going and you feel the power of your body rising. You can quantify the distance you are putting between you and the dark places of the past. You even start to get small pictures of the finish line- but not too fast- you don't want to get carried away too soon. You look at the beauty all around you and focus on the journey itself to distract your mind from the pain. Even as your body may tire, every second, every step forward makes you stronger. Eventually as you complete the distance you can see the race in its entirety- the beauty and struggle and the precious gift that each station was. I can see the entire race now. It took a year to travel this course and it was worth every step along the path.
The best analogy of what my 7th year of sobriety was came to me recently as I drifted off to sleep in my kids room. I just had an amazing two days with the kids and I was riding a high that no amount of drugs or alcohol could ever have launched me to. As my eyes closed I felt the world relax and create a peaceful place for me to float in- I found myself sitting in a boat. In my vision I had rowed out in to the center of a lake. I could see every thing important to me on the shore. I could see Emily. I could see my kids and my mom and dad. I could see my brothers and all my friends. I could see alcoholics and addicts and even finish lines and races standing there as if they were people. They were all looking directly at me and their eyes all seemed to be asking the same question "Where have you gone?" As I sat in my boat I was painfully aware that if I rowed to any one of these friends, I would be rowing away from the others... Not knowing what to do, I looked around to the places on shore where no one was standing. I saw a nice green section of land with a great view of the mountains and the water. It looked perfectly suited for me so I rowed my boat over to the vacant spot. As I reached the shore and climbed out of the boat I was greeted by all my loved ones on shore. They embraced me and welcomed me with love. I could see now that when I saw them from the center of the lake, they were not asking me where I went. They were asking me where I was going so they could meet me there.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
LNF (Llama Not Finish)
OK, first things first. Thank you everyone for the amazing love and warmth that has been sent my way in light of my "Debacle in Laramie" as I am calling it. And in case you are still worried about me let me say this- I am always ready to quickly and without filter share my feelings (even in my weakest moments) this is very true. But, I am also a tough nut to crack. I am indescribably stubborn, I have been through the ringer a couple of times and it will take a hell of a lot more than a DNF to fold me up or fracture my psyche permanently.
Nice little rant there, Llama. But that having been said; what the hell happened? Hmmm, that's kinda of easy to answer and yet complex at the same time.
Building up to the race week things were to say the least, hectic. Emily had to be out of her apartment on the same weekend of my 100 mile race and due to RAAM and other obligations in May and June we were unable to get any of her moving or packing done in advance. As the time grew shorter I began to realize that getting the move done (as we had hoped for) before Thursday and then heading up to Wyoming for the Laramie 100 seemed unlikely. So I was faced with a very tough predicament; listen to Emily who was telling me to go race, or do what I thought was right and blow off the race to help her get moved into our home. It seemed like a fairly straightforward (yet slightly heartbreaking decision); don't race. But as the stress of moving increased it became apparent that it wasn't that easy at all. Emily certainly didn't want me to miss my race after all the training I did. And I didn't want Emily to move without help. And I certainly didn't want her to feel bad for the rest of her life about making me miss my race. WTF? We both wanted to do right by the other person- but we were both miserable. I was in a mental battle to find "the right thing" to do. Be "selfish" and go race (that doesn't sound like a very good option at all) or stay and help Emily and make her feel horrible (also not high on the attractive scenario list).
After some debate Em and agreed that I would head up to Wyoming to race and she would join me late Friday night or even Saturday afternoon worst case. She and her Mom would be able to get the remaining cleaning and moving done after her Dad and I had moved all the big furniture and boxes earlier that week... As I was driving up to Wyoming I was still in a huge conflict. My mind was going a million miles per hour and I was on the verge of turning the car around at every exit. I eventually made it to Laramie and checked into the hotel. I tossed and turned all night long and went to the race course the next morning to check out the start and try to make some sense of it. I decided I didn't care about the race. I drove back to the hotel, checked out and drove back to Denver immediately. I told Emily I was pulling out of the race and needless to say she wasn't very happy. But I think she was pleased to have some help. After some debate she and I moved a bunch of boxes and spent several hours cleaning, and we eventually got most of the moving done. I figured we would still be moving for the next several hours when abruptly Emily came into the room I was working on and informed me that the apartment office manager told her she didn't need to be out until Monday... Before I knew it we had stopped moving and we were in the car driving back to Wyoming together to race early the next day- just like that. I wasn't very convinced at all that this was the right decision, and I may have even sulked the entire way there. We checked into a hotel and fell asleep in each others arms exhausted.
As I stood at the starting line the next morning my head was a mess. I was still thinking of what was left as far as moving goes, I was wondering if I should change to the 12 hour race instead of the 100, and I was thinking about everything in the world except how to race 100 miles.
The race started and I went off fairly fast. I figured screw it, lets just run. I ran the first 12 miles of hilly single track in a sub 9 pace. I was going in and out of phases that had me feeling great and also thinking I should scrap the race and take care of business; live to fight another day. For miles 12-24 the demons were in full effect- telling me that I was being selfish for running, telling me that I was a incapable of racing in this mental state and telling me this was just a joyless experience. I was so emotionally and mentally folded by the time I came into base camp at mile 24 that I told Emily I was done. I told her "I have nothing left emotionally, physically or mentally" I decided to call it a day. We sat in the car for a while and I made peace of sorts with quitting. There was just too much going on and I wanted to be done. I didn't want to suffer for 15-18 more hours- "Call me a cab; I'm going home" Instead what happened was I got out of the car after almost 30- 40 minutes past, I pulled up my panties and started running again. Emily told me it was "the bravest thing she had ever seen" I didn't think so at all. I was miserable- and I would have rather shoved a bowling ball in my ass than go run, but I set off running anyway.
In fact I ran pretty well. I finally let my mind go and tried to make sense of it- OK, I made it through the worst of the fears and mental diarrhea, I thought. And I didn't quit, even at my lowest moment- that made me feel good. So, now what? I could try to run the 100 (a reasonable although slightly unattractive option) I could go 50 and call it a day, I could get Emily out here to run with me for a while... what to do? I made it back to base camp with every intention of changing my shoes and getting back out there. When I sat down, I felt a little emotion starting to surface again. Then I found out there were some things going on at work- stressful bullshit that still needed to get taken care of before Monday- So I quit. Just like that. I felt great- I could have kept going- but I didn't. I didn't want to go suffer all night, and instead of figuring out how we could make it work, I turtled up, took of my bib number and said "lets go back home" Before I knew what happened we packed up the car and we were heading to Denver. I was confused and melancholy and my mind was mush.
What did I learn here? A couple things and unfortunately I already knew most of them...
1. Commitment. You cant do ANYTHING if you aren't committed to making it work (even when it gets ridiculously hard) Burn the damn bridges and run like hell... HARD- that's how we do 100 miles. Period. There is no such thing as 99% committed.
2. Joy. I run best when I run for joy. Even when I am running to PR, I am motivated by the joy of it. Even when it hurts and I am in pain- I am running for the joy of my recovery and because there are others who would love to be able to lace em up and go.
3. Respect. Ultra is fucking hard, excuse my language. It deserves respect and it will humble you and kick your ass if you take it less than seriously. I am sorry I disrespected you.
4. Knowledge. We learn when we fail. I failed. I learned.
You know, I speak quite frequently on life change and weight loss and running, and its funny because commitment is always on the top of my list. The body and mind have no idea how to allocate its resources until we have commitment; easy enough. If your pain battered brain sees a way out when things are hard it will convince you to take it. However if your head knows no matter what, you will run like a crazy wild eyed freak right through the center of hell- you can be sure your body will figure out a way to make you faster... Hell, I butter my morning toast with this stuff. I have gone into total hand to hand combat with the voices in my head and yet somehow in a haze of stress and indecision I forgot it all. I forgot the very secret to my life and recovery; create the destiny you desire and move forward. Don't stop, no fear, shut up head I am not listening to you anymore, I have work to do - redemption awaits...
So I guess that's it. That is how I spent my weekend. It was not my first DNF but it was my most humbling and my most confusing for sure. I have been called obsessive in my past about not letting myself quit even on the most simple of training runs. Once I drove back to the gym after cutting a treadmill run short- I went back later that day to "get the miles I left behind" with a couple extra added on. I once told myself at the start of an 8 mile run "I don't feel very well today maybe I should run 6?" My response was to tell myself I was running 12 miles as punishment for even thinking I should quit early... sick? Probably. But before you call the therapist and set up an intervention you should know that I do rest when I am injured. I take days off when I am over training and I listen to my body (the memory of my spinal injury makes sure that I do this) and honestly, I don't mind the time off from running when its planned or necessary. But I don't ever want to quit just because I am not feeling like training or because I am having a bad day. I want the body of my work as an athlete and even as a human to be that of a joyful, relentless and focused individual. I hold the line in my training if for no other reason, precisely because know I am a flawed human and that I will stumble, but I chose to define myself by what I do every day- day in and day out. Perhaps most importantly, I don't really think its very important how fast we run, but I believe there is nothing more essential to the human condition than the speed at which we pick ourselves up when we fall.
Nice little rant there, Llama. But that having been said; what the hell happened? Hmmm, that's kinda of easy to answer and yet complex at the same time.
Building up to the race week things were to say the least, hectic. Emily had to be out of her apartment on the same weekend of my 100 mile race and due to RAAM and other obligations in May and June we were unable to get any of her moving or packing done in advance. As the time grew shorter I began to realize that getting the move done (as we had hoped for) before Thursday and then heading up to Wyoming for the Laramie 100 seemed unlikely. So I was faced with a very tough predicament; listen to Emily who was telling me to go race, or do what I thought was right and blow off the race to help her get moved into our home. It seemed like a fairly straightforward (yet slightly heartbreaking decision); don't race. But as the stress of moving increased it became apparent that it wasn't that easy at all. Emily certainly didn't want me to miss my race after all the training I did. And I didn't want Emily to move without help. And I certainly didn't want her to feel bad for the rest of her life about making me miss my race. WTF? We both wanted to do right by the other person- but we were both miserable. I was in a mental battle to find "the right thing" to do. Be "selfish" and go race (that doesn't sound like a very good option at all) or stay and help Emily and make her feel horrible (also not high on the attractive scenario list).
After some debate Em and agreed that I would head up to Wyoming to race and she would join me late Friday night or even Saturday afternoon worst case. She and her Mom would be able to get the remaining cleaning and moving done after her Dad and I had moved all the big furniture and boxes earlier that week... As I was driving up to Wyoming I was still in a huge conflict. My mind was going a million miles per hour and I was on the verge of turning the car around at every exit. I eventually made it to Laramie and checked into the hotel. I tossed and turned all night long and went to the race course the next morning to check out the start and try to make some sense of it. I decided I didn't care about the race. I drove back to the hotel, checked out and drove back to Denver immediately. I told Emily I was pulling out of the race and needless to say she wasn't very happy. But I think she was pleased to have some help. After some debate she and I moved a bunch of boxes and spent several hours cleaning, and we eventually got most of the moving done. I figured we would still be moving for the next several hours when abruptly Emily came into the room I was working on and informed me that the apartment office manager told her she didn't need to be out until Monday... Before I knew it we had stopped moving and we were in the car driving back to Wyoming together to race early the next day- just like that. I wasn't very convinced at all that this was the right decision, and I may have even sulked the entire way there. We checked into a hotel and fell asleep in each others arms exhausted.
As I stood at the starting line the next morning my head was a mess. I was still thinking of what was left as far as moving goes, I was wondering if I should change to the 12 hour race instead of the 100, and I was thinking about everything in the world except how to race 100 miles.
The race started and I went off fairly fast. I figured screw it, lets just run. I ran the first 12 miles of hilly single track in a sub 9 pace. I was going in and out of phases that had me feeling great and also thinking I should scrap the race and take care of business; live to fight another day. For miles 12-24 the demons were in full effect- telling me that I was being selfish for running, telling me that I was a incapable of racing in this mental state and telling me this was just a joyless experience. I was so emotionally and mentally folded by the time I came into base camp at mile 24 that I told Emily I was done. I told her "I have nothing left emotionally, physically or mentally" I decided to call it a day. We sat in the car for a while and I made peace of sorts with quitting. There was just too much going on and I wanted to be done. I didn't want to suffer for 15-18 more hours- "Call me a cab; I'm going home" Instead what happened was I got out of the car after almost 30- 40 minutes past, I pulled up my panties and started running again. Emily told me it was "the bravest thing she had ever seen" I didn't think so at all. I was miserable- and I would have rather shoved a bowling ball in my ass than go run, but I set off running anyway.
In fact I ran pretty well. I finally let my mind go and tried to make sense of it- OK, I made it through the worst of the fears and mental diarrhea, I thought. And I didn't quit, even at my lowest moment- that made me feel good. So, now what? I could try to run the 100 (a reasonable although slightly unattractive option) I could go 50 and call it a day, I could get Emily out here to run with me for a while... what to do? I made it back to base camp with every intention of changing my shoes and getting back out there. When I sat down, I felt a little emotion starting to surface again. Then I found out there were some things going on at work- stressful bullshit that still needed to get taken care of before Monday- So I quit. Just like that. I felt great- I could have kept going- but I didn't. I didn't want to go suffer all night, and instead of figuring out how we could make it work, I turtled up, took of my bib number and said "lets go back home" Before I knew what happened we packed up the car and we were heading to Denver. I was confused and melancholy and my mind was mush.
What did I learn here? A couple things and unfortunately I already knew most of them...
1. Commitment. You cant do ANYTHING if you aren't committed to making it work (even when it gets ridiculously hard) Burn the damn bridges and run like hell... HARD- that's how we do 100 miles. Period. There is no such thing as 99% committed.
2. Joy. I run best when I run for joy. Even when I am running to PR, I am motivated by the joy of it. Even when it hurts and I am in pain- I am running for the joy of my recovery and because there are others who would love to be able to lace em up and go.
3. Respect. Ultra is fucking hard, excuse my language. It deserves respect and it will humble you and kick your ass if you take it less than seriously. I am sorry I disrespected you.
4. Knowledge. We learn when we fail. I failed. I learned.
You know, I speak quite frequently on life change and weight loss and running, and its funny because commitment is always on the top of my list. The body and mind have no idea how to allocate its resources until we have commitment; easy enough. If your pain battered brain sees a way out when things are hard it will convince you to take it. However if your head knows no matter what, you will run like a crazy wild eyed freak right through the center of hell- you can be sure your body will figure out a way to make you faster... Hell, I butter my morning toast with this stuff. I have gone into total hand to hand combat with the voices in my head and yet somehow in a haze of stress and indecision I forgot it all. I forgot the very secret to my life and recovery; create the destiny you desire and move forward. Don't stop, no fear, shut up head I am not listening to you anymore, I have work to do - redemption awaits...
So I guess that's it. That is how I spent my weekend. It was not my first DNF but it was my most humbling and my most confusing for sure. I have been called obsessive in my past about not letting myself quit even on the most simple of training runs. Once I drove back to the gym after cutting a treadmill run short- I went back later that day to "get the miles I left behind" with a couple extra added on. I once told myself at the start of an 8 mile run "I don't feel very well today maybe I should run 6?" My response was to tell myself I was running 12 miles as punishment for even thinking I should quit early... sick? Probably. But before you call the therapist and set up an intervention you should know that I do rest when I am injured. I take days off when I am over training and I listen to my body (the memory of my spinal injury makes sure that I do this) and honestly, I don't mind the time off from running when its planned or necessary. But I don't ever want to quit just because I am not feeling like training or because I am having a bad day. I want the body of my work as an athlete and even as a human to be that of a joyful, relentless and focused individual. I hold the line in my training if for no other reason, precisely because know I am a flawed human and that I will stumble, but I chose to define myself by what I do every day- day in and day out. Perhaps most importantly, I don't really think its very important how fast we run, but I believe there is nothing more essential to the human condition than the speed at which we pick ourselves up when we fall.
Monday, May 21, 2012
New Mexico- 340 miles later...
Step 12:
"Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these Steps, we tried to carry this message to others and to practice these principles in all our affairs"
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Southern Colorado towards the border... Step 11
"Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious
contact with God as we understood Him, praying
only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to
carry that out"
Over the past few days the beautiful alpine terrain we have been treated to has flattened out and the mountains have seemed to roll off into the horizons along side of us like the retreating tide- what has been left are long straight sections of land and road that challenge our minds and leave us to our own thoughts. Part of my personal journey through recovery has been a accepting the fact that I am plugged into a greater picture of the world than I could paint on my own. I have always felt that we are all free to create the exact lives of our choosing, but how does my vision of the world affect the vision of the person next to me? That is a difficult question to wrap your mind around if you let it simmer. But since I have recently had some free time to navigate and explore my thoughts I will share some of my meanderings....
So there I was running down another section of another road trying to get a few miles closer to New Mexico and the end of this 300+ mile journey of recovery. And as I trudged forward on this particular day (with Jeremy and Emily along either side of me) into a 20 mph headwind, it occurred to me an additional way this run represents my actual life- Just yesterday I was running downhill with the wind at my back and a clear vision of the road stretching out into the horizon. Everything seemed "locked in" I could see where I was going and I was getting there fast. But today I had to lean forward and even look down at times to keep going into the wind. It was hard to see the road ahead and my progress was slow and difficult. Seemingly very different experiences, yet I had the same task at hand and the same plan for success- keep moving forward.
I am not much of a "praying man" although I have and do pray at times. Praying to me as it is commonly represented seems vain or even shallow at times. It seems to me that God probably has better things to do than to intervene in the minutia of our daily lives or help us with problems that he has in his infinite wisdom adequately equipped us to solve ourselves. But I also understand that, even in the absence Creator micromanagement, by resolving to check in with my spiritual higher power I can improve the quality of my daily life. When I took the step to turn over my life to the will and care of God as I understood him- I made a commitment to see the world as being bigger than just me and my personal calling. A commitment to believe that there is an order in the way that things are done in the universe that supersedes my ability to shape the daily orbit of my aspirations. I know that I likely will never ascertain the true meaning of things so I must do my best to understand how things affect me, and how I can use my life to serve the greater good- all while making a living and raising my kids in the process. Wow, seems kind of complicated- So I took my 11th step- I prayed.
I asked God to show me what he had in mind for me as I ran today. I asked for the patience to keep looking for ways to evolve as a human. I asked for an enlightened state that would include less of me, and more of a positive impact. Don't get me wrong, I am not trying to be Gandhi here. I am not trying to become a bleeding heart save the world activist. I just want to know that maybe my life, my honestly, my willingness to share and perhaps even my words will bring a little light to the world. Or at least wash away some the the dirt and muck I cast on it while I was still out there using. I prayed for the gift of sight and vision to see my place in the universe- not the place where I want to be, but maybe the place where he would have me. The place where I would most fulfill the gifts and talents that were given to me- The place where my potential would meet my location. I believe the old saying "What we are is God's gift to us- and what we make of ourselves is our gift to God" I truly believe from the soles of my feet to the top of my head that we are all capable of almost anything. So in my mind knowing what I could be- is equivalent of knowing what I should be.
Run Update...
We are currently 20(ish) miles from the border of New Mexico and the end of this very long journey. We have already traveled longer, farther and higher then we expected. We have laughed, cried, shared and grown together in the process- I am speaking of You, me and all of us as one family. Each day a new friend, a new section of road and a new step of personal and spiritual discovery. There isn't much I can say that I haven't already said in previous blog posts but I will say that I will never be able to scratch the surface on what it has meant to me to receive so much love and support during this time. Knowing that this cause and this journey has meant something to someone else- anyone else- makes it all worth while. It has been my most profound pleasure to get to know so many new people through The Superman Project. And also to get to experience a new deeper love and respect for a few old friends as we shared miles together in God's country.
I have to one last time acknowledge that each day, in every possible way, Emily Booth has been there. I am so glad that she has been with me since day one sharing the ups and downs and the logistics. It is only fitting that she has also been with me running every mile of the last two days and will be there for each of the final twenty miles or tomorrow as we bring it home.
Over the past few days the beautiful alpine terrain we have been treated to has flattened out and the mountains have seemed to roll off into the horizons along side of us like the retreating tide- what has been left are long straight sections of land and road that challenge our minds and leave us to our own thoughts. Part of my personal journey through recovery has been a accepting the fact that I am plugged into a greater picture of the world than I could paint on my own. I have always felt that we are all free to create the exact lives of our choosing, but how does my vision of the world affect the vision of the person next to me? That is a difficult question to wrap your mind around if you let it simmer. But since I have recently had some free time to navigate and explore my thoughts I will share some of my meanderings....
So there I was running down another section of another road trying to get a few miles closer to New Mexico and the end of this 300+ mile journey of recovery. And as I trudged forward on this particular day (with Jeremy and Emily along either side of me) into a 20 mph headwind, it occurred to me an additional way this run represents my actual life- Just yesterday I was running downhill with the wind at my back and a clear vision of the road stretching out into the horizon. Everything seemed "locked in" I could see where I was going and I was getting there fast. But today I had to lean forward and even look down at times to keep going into the wind. It was hard to see the road ahead and my progress was slow and difficult. Seemingly very different experiences, yet I had the same task at hand and the same plan for success- keep moving forward.
I am not much of a "praying man" although I have and do pray at times. Praying to me as it is commonly represented seems vain or even shallow at times. It seems to me that God probably has better things to do than to intervene in the minutia of our daily lives or help us with problems that he has in his infinite wisdom adequately equipped us to solve ourselves. But I also understand that, even in the absence Creator micromanagement, by resolving to check in with my spiritual higher power I can improve the quality of my daily life. When I took the step to turn over my life to the will and care of God as I understood him- I made a commitment to see the world as being bigger than just me and my personal calling. A commitment to believe that there is an order in the way that things are done in the universe that supersedes my ability to shape the daily orbit of my aspirations. I know that I likely will never ascertain the true meaning of things so I must do my best to understand how things affect me, and how I can use my life to serve the greater good- all while making a living and raising my kids in the process. Wow, seems kind of complicated- So I took my 11th step- I prayed.
I asked God to show me what he had in mind for me as I ran today. I asked for the patience to keep looking for ways to evolve as a human. I asked for an enlightened state that would include less of me, and more of a positive impact. Don't get me wrong, I am not trying to be Gandhi here. I am not trying to become a bleeding heart save the world activist. I just want to know that maybe my life, my honestly, my willingness to share and perhaps even my words will bring a little light to the world. Or at least wash away some the the dirt and muck I cast on it while I was still out there using. I prayed for the gift of sight and vision to see my place in the universe- not the place where I want to be, but maybe the place where he would have me. The place where I would most fulfill the gifts and talents that were given to me- The place where my potential would meet my location. I believe the old saying "What we are is God's gift to us- and what we make of ourselves is our gift to God" I truly believe from the soles of my feet to the top of my head that we are all capable of almost anything. So in my mind knowing what I could be- is equivalent of knowing what I should be.
Run Update...
We are currently 20(ish) miles from the border of New Mexico and the end of this very long journey. We have already traveled longer, farther and higher then we expected. We have laughed, cried, shared and grown together in the process- I am speaking of You, me and all of us as one family. Each day a new friend, a new section of road and a new step of personal and spiritual discovery. There isn't much I can say that I haven't already said in previous blog posts but I will say that I will never be able to scratch the surface on what it has meant to me to receive so much love and support during this time. Knowing that this cause and this journey has meant something to someone else- anyone else- makes it all worth while. It has been my most profound pleasure to get to know so many new people through The Superman Project. And also to get to experience a new deeper love and respect for a few old friends as we shared miles together in God's country.
I have to one last time acknowledge that each day, in every possible way, Emily Booth has been there. I am so glad that she has been with me since day one sharing the ups and downs and the logistics. It is only fitting that she has also been with me running every mile of the last two days and will be there for each of the final twenty miles or tomorrow as we bring it home.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Buena Vista to Poncha Springs- Poncha Summit and Beyond- Step 10
Buena Vista past Poncha Springs
Emily carried me through probably the toughest section of this run to date on Wednesday. The thing is, no one knew it was going to be the toughest section. We thought it was just another flat run heading out of Buena Vista and on southward to Poncha. And it was for the first little bit... In fact I was running down the side of the highway ticking off some nice downhill miles and spending some time inside my head- all systems go- green lights. Emily was on a conference call in the crew car and getting ready to join me in a couple miles (As I recently said on a Twitter post- I have the easiest job in this thing; I wake up and run. Emily is working her phone and laptop, cooking, taking care of me and running huge miles along side me everyday) So here I am running downhill and I see a moderate climb coming in the distance- no big deal I thought, I love the uphill stuff. I put it in a "low gear" and worked my way along the winding uphill grade. As I reached the summit of the climb Em was off the phone and ready to join me for the rest of the day.
The first thing I noticed after Emily and I started ruining was the extremely long climb lurking in the distance now from this new perspective- nice treat to go with the fierce head wind that seemed to come out of nowhere about 10 minutes earlier. But, hey we are ultra runners, right? This is what we do. We ran down the rolling hill a short distance and then up the long rise before us until we eventually reached the precipice. But each time we thought we were done going up we hit another long climb. One after another we tackled the hills. It was fantastic. I loved every minute of it and wouldn't have changed it for the world. We finished the last climb just outside of Poncha Springs and celebrated another victory- about 30 miles more in the bank. Emily is a machine.
The evening was tough because Emily had to get back to Denver to work and she obviously was torn by having to leave me for a day. The thought of being without her for even just one day was sad and scary to me, but I encouraged her to take care of business and get back ASAP. She set me on the couch, cleaned the entire house, took care of all the gear, and made sure I was taken care of before she left to Denver.
Poncha Summit to "Parts Unknown"
"Whats an ultra between friends?" I said as we finished our run today...
Alan Greening has been a a great friend of mine who I can always count on to do something crazy with me.... The weird thing is- its been that way since the first time I met him. We met at my 40 mile birthday run when he drove all the way out to the Parker Life Time Fitness at 4am to run with a guy he never met. Personally I think he is just about 90% mental. Anyway, Alan drove out to meet me in Poncha Springs at the butt crack of dawn and I was very thankful to see him there. Initially, he told me he was planning on knocking out a few miles with me and getting back to Denver at some reasonable time- after all he does have a marathon to run on Sunday...
Today our run started with a straight uphill climb from about 7400 feet to 9010 feet. Alan and I started with a slow uphill jog and mixed in some power hiking to get warm. We knocked out the 6 mile climb to the summit seemingly in no time. Luckily we both like to hear ourselves talk so the banter was unending. After the climb we had an absolute "make my whole week" kind of miracle... the wind was at our back! We decided to take advantage of this aid and we set off running. As a result we knocked out 15 miles like it was a walk in the park. The nice thing about having one of those triathlete guys around is getting kept up to date on all of my paces and distances as we moved (in kilometers and miles no less)...
After a while my knee started to tighten from the downhill running so we slowed it down a bit. But we did manage to keep a strong and steady pace all day. The biggest surprise came when Nancy Rhodes came jumping out of a car along side the Hwy at about 26 miles in to the run. The surprise comes because we were in the absolute middle of nowhere and we were not expecting her- She ran up to us and we exchanged some laughs and hugs before she jumped back into her truck and out of sight. That gave us our last needed boost of energy to finish off our 30 miles for the day. Alan told me this was his longest run ever and first ultra run. He is a genuine badass athlete and a good guy too. He told me to not mention our Broke Back Mountain moment so I wont...
On a serious note- I need to mention my Dad. As always he was on hand all day to drive and crew and make sure we had everything we needed. He is a great man- and I love him dearly. Everything I know about being a father and pushing on thorough hard times came from him- you are the best Dad.
Stepping on...
"Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it"
I have continued to take inventory everyday of this run. In fact in many ways for me this step has been my mission throughout this 300+ miles journey. I am not afraid to look into my heart and see whats there. Not because I am confident that everything I do or think is pure- but because there is no truth that I wouldn't rather know than not know. I am aware that as a man, and an addict in recovery especially, that I am capable of being incredibly short sighted at times. I can easily get off track if I don't regularly stop and look around for a land mark and check it against my map. For me the map and direction is simple- Am I living the life that I would have for my children? Is my behavior something that I can gladly and openly share with others? And is what I am doing having a positive impact on others? If I get yeses- I keep moving forward. If I don't, its time to bring in my spiritual accounts and do another inventory...
Emily carried me through probably the toughest section of this run to date on Wednesday. The thing is, no one knew it was going to be the toughest section. We thought it was just another flat run heading out of Buena Vista and on southward to Poncha. And it was for the first little bit... In fact I was running down the side of the highway ticking off some nice downhill miles and spending some time inside my head- all systems go- green lights. Emily was on a conference call in the crew car and getting ready to join me in a couple miles (As I recently said on a Twitter post- I have the easiest job in this thing; I wake up and run. Emily is working her phone and laptop, cooking, taking care of me and running huge miles along side me everyday) So here I am running downhill and I see a moderate climb coming in the distance- no big deal I thought, I love the uphill stuff. I put it in a "low gear" and worked my way along the winding uphill grade. As I reached the summit of the climb Em was off the phone and ready to join me for the rest of the day.
The first thing I noticed after Emily and I started ruining was the extremely long climb lurking in the distance now from this new perspective- nice treat to go with the fierce head wind that seemed to come out of nowhere about 10 minutes earlier. But, hey we are ultra runners, right? This is what we do. We ran down the rolling hill a short distance and then up the long rise before us until we eventually reached the precipice. But each time we thought we were done going up we hit another long climb. One after another we tackled the hills. It was fantastic. I loved every minute of it and wouldn't have changed it for the world. We finished the last climb just outside of Poncha Springs and celebrated another victory- about 30 miles more in the bank. Emily is a machine.
The evening was tough because Emily had to get back to Denver to work and she obviously was torn by having to leave me for a day. The thought of being without her for even just one day was sad and scary to me, but I encouraged her to take care of business and get back ASAP. She set me on the couch, cleaned the entire house, took care of all the gear, and made sure I was taken care of before she left to Denver.
Poncha Summit to "Parts Unknown"
"Whats an ultra between friends?" I said as we finished our run today...
Alan Greening has been a a great friend of mine who I can always count on to do something crazy with me.... The weird thing is- its been that way since the first time I met him. We met at my 40 mile birthday run when he drove all the way out to the Parker Life Time Fitness at 4am to run with a guy he never met. Personally I think he is just about 90% mental. Anyway, Alan drove out to meet me in Poncha Springs at the butt crack of dawn and I was very thankful to see him there. Initially, he told me he was planning on knocking out a few miles with me and getting back to Denver at some reasonable time- after all he does have a marathon to run on Sunday...
Today our run started with a straight uphill climb from about 7400 feet to 9010 feet. Alan and I started with a slow uphill jog and mixed in some power hiking to get warm. We knocked out the 6 mile climb to the summit seemingly in no time. Luckily we both like to hear ourselves talk so the banter was unending. After the climb we had an absolute "make my whole week" kind of miracle... the wind was at our back! We decided to take advantage of this aid and we set off running. As a result we knocked out 15 miles like it was a walk in the park. The nice thing about having one of those triathlete guys around is getting kept up to date on all of my paces and distances as we moved (in kilometers and miles no less)...
After a while my knee started to tighten from the downhill running so we slowed it down a bit. But we did manage to keep a strong and steady pace all day. The biggest surprise came when Nancy Rhodes came jumping out of a car along side the Hwy at about 26 miles in to the run. The surprise comes because we were in the absolute middle of nowhere and we were not expecting her- She ran up to us and we exchanged some laughs and hugs before she jumped back into her truck and out of sight. That gave us our last needed boost of energy to finish off our 30 miles for the day. Alan told me this was his longest run ever and first ultra run. He is a genuine badass athlete and a good guy too. He told me to not mention our Broke Back Mountain moment so I wont...
On a serious note- I need to mention my Dad. As always he was on hand all day to drive and crew and make sure we had everything we needed. He is a great man- and I love him dearly. Everything I know about being a father and pushing on thorough hard times came from him- you are the best Dad.
Stepping on...
"Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it"
I have continued to take inventory everyday of this run. In fact in many ways for me this step has been my mission throughout this 300+ miles journey. I am not afraid to look into my heart and see whats there. Not because I am confident that everything I do or think is pure- but because there is no truth that I wouldn't rather know than not know. I am aware that as a man, and an addict in recovery especially, that I am capable of being incredibly short sighted at times. I can easily get off track if I don't regularly stop and look around for a land mark and check it against my map. For me the map and direction is simple- Am I living the life that I would have for my children? Is my behavior something that I can gladly and openly share with others? And is what I am doing having a positive impact on others? If I get yeses- I keep moving forward. If I don't, its time to bring in my spiritual accounts and do another inventory...
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Copper to Leadville- Leadville to Buena Vista- Step 9
"Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing
to make amends to them all"
Copper to Leadville:
Yesterday was an amazing day to say the least. It started with my dad, Emily and I meeting up with Corey Dillon in Copper for the start of an epic all out climb up Jackson pass and into Leadville. This is the day we all had been both looking forward to and nervous about since I routed the journey months ago. Emily and Corey and I set off from the Copper Mountain entrance and got off to a hobbling run/ walk start. My knee was still a little tight from the day before but thankfully it released completely by the time we got to the serious climbing. We moved with a purpose and a determination that kept us all fired up and moving up hill fast. The combination of the beautiful scenery and stellar conversation made the time fly and we reached the Jackson Pass Summit way ahead of schedule. The three of us laughed and took pictures and shared the beauty of the climb to the Climax Mine Summit and from there Emily and I ran it home into the town of Leadville. Once there we knew we would be at the official halfway point of the run. Before we got to the city limits we were greeted by Karen Reinhardt of the Leadville Herald who stopped to show some support, take a quick photo or two and say hi! We ended the run at the LT100 Race Headquarters and were welcomed by, Malin, Shannon and Merilee herself! I went to home get an ice bath and Merilee grabbed Em to go for a ride. She wanted to show us a great spot for our wedding... how cool is that?
I have to say that running into "downtown" Leadville was a magical and unforgettable event in my life. My concept for the "Superman inside of us all" came in right in this town after I completed the Leadville 100 in 2010- my son Davey (who remembered me at 320lbs) told me at the finish that he thought I had turned into Superman. I told him "No, I am not Superman-but maybe we all can be Superman for one day" The Superman tattoo went on my calve a couple days after that.
Leadville to Buena Vista:
Today we started the run were left off yesterday- LT100 Race Headquarters. I started the run alone to sort through my thoughts (as has been the norm for most days) and Corey and Emily were in the crew car ready to go miles and miles when I needed them. I wanted to run through today's step (Step 9) in my mind before I had company. I have been down this road before six years ago when I first found sobriety, and luckily I didn't have a lot of names to add to the lifelong list of people I have harmed, but I did have a few. Its amazing how the layers peel themselves away as the miles come. My ability to get directly to the core of my honesty without a lot of ego interference has become quite sharp since I started this run 200 miles ago. I quickly tallied a short list of those whom I have hurt or harmed inadvertently and directly. I cried as I studied the pain I have caused and quickly tried to release the guilt and design a plan to make amends.
I had been running for miles before I realized that I was running two feet off the ground. Not literally of course, but damn, my legs felt great. The knee pain I was dealing with a couple days ago was gone and I felt strong and light- my body didn't even need a warm up to get primed. I looked at my GPS and I was running around 8 minute miles- uh oh. Sure it was downhill out of town, but that was still too fast considering I was running just under 40 miles today. I settled down to pace a little more reasonable just on time to pick up my first pacer Corey. It was impossible to not continually be aware of the stunning views and privilege we had to just to be running- so we just looked around with dumb grins on our faces and kept running. We agreed that everyone should at least once in their life do something really crazy- and really difficult. We got in about 5 miles together before Emily could no longer contain herself- she jumped out of the crew car and joined us on the road. Unfortunately Corey had to bail after 11 miles and drive all the back to Denver for work. He was solid, steady and it was an honor to run with him. Emily and I finished off the last 3 hours of the run chatting at times like we were on our first date. She is an angel to me and possibly the greatest friend a man has known. I could never have gotten this far without her to say the least.
Stepping...
As the miles continue to pile on I feel my body adjusting to the spirit of the run. I feel my natural state is while I am running. my body craves it- almost needs it. When I slow down or walk it feels unnatural and I cant stay there for long. I am no longer preoccupied with how many hours or miles we have left. I feel the work of The Superman Project, for now is in this run, so there is where my thoughts and energies stay. Maybe that is overly dramatic but it seems real. I know that I cannot save anyone by running across the state- but it is still my intention to share my thoughts and experiences in hopes that some spark will ignite and roar into a huge fire in the belly of someone out there lurking. As I get ready to sleep it occurs to me that we all travel great distances in our lives, but few people see the world as they move about. I feel tiny and insignificant when I consider the vast beautiful rolling hills and towering mountains around me. I am not sure if I will ever really understand all of this and what it means but I am sure somehow it will all come together in the end. But for now as I run across this gorgeous state my eyes aren't closed anymore, I'm looking, and I like what I see....
Copper to Leadville:
Yesterday was an amazing day to say the least. It started with my dad, Emily and I meeting up with Corey Dillon in Copper for the start of an epic all out climb up Jackson pass and into Leadville. This is the day we all had been both looking forward to and nervous about since I routed the journey months ago. Emily and Corey and I set off from the Copper Mountain entrance and got off to a hobbling run/ walk start. My knee was still a little tight from the day before but thankfully it released completely by the time we got to the serious climbing. We moved with a purpose and a determination that kept us all fired up and moving up hill fast. The combination of the beautiful scenery and stellar conversation made the time fly and we reached the Jackson Pass Summit way ahead of schedule. The three of us laughed and took pictures and shared the beauty of the climb to the Climax Mine Summit and from there Emily and I ran it home into the town of Leadville. Once there we knew we would be at the official halfway point of the run. Before we got to the city limits we were greeted by Karen Reinhardt of the Leadville Herald who stopped to show some support, take a quick photo or two and say hi! We ended the run at the LT100 Race Headquarters and were welcomed by, Malin, Shannon and Merilee herself! I went to home get an ice bath and Merilee grabbed Em to go for a ride. She wanted to show us a great spot for our wedding... how cool is that?
I have to say that running into "downtown" Leadville was a magical and unforgettable event in my life. My concept for the "Superman inside of us all" came in right in this town after I completed the Leadville 100 in 2010- my son Davey (who remembered me at 320lbs) told me at the finish that he thought I had turned into Superman. I told him "No, I am not Superman-but maybe we all can be Superman for one day" The Superman tattoo went on my calve a couple days after that.
Leadville to Buena Vista:
Today we started the run were left off yesterday- LT100 Race Headquarters. I started the run alone to sort through my thoughts (as has been the norm for most days) and Corey and Emily were in the crew car ready to go miles and miles when I needed them. I wanted to run through today's step (Step 9) in my mind before I had company. I have been down this road before six years ago when I first found sobriety, and luckily I didn't have a lot of names to add to the lifelong list of people I have harmed, but I did have a few. Its amazing how the layers peel themselves away as the miles come. My ability to get directly to the core of my honesty without a lot of ego interference has become quite sharp since I started this run 200 miles ago. I quickly tallied a short list of those whom I have hurt or harmed inadvertently and directly. I cried as I studied the pain I have caused and quickly tried to release the guilt and design a plan to make amends.
I had been running for miles before I realized that I was running two feet off the ground. Not literally of course, but damn, my legs felt great. The knee pain I was dealing with a couple days ago was gone and I felt strong and light- my body didn't even need a warm up to get primed. I looked at my GPS and I was running around 8 minute miles- uh oh. Sure it was downhill out of town, but that was still too fast considering I was running just under 40 miles today. I settled down to pace a little more reasonable just on time to pick up my first pacer Corey. It was impossible to not continually be aware of the stunning views and privilege we had to just to be running- so we just looked around with dumb grins on our faces and kept running. We agreed that everyone should at least once in their life do something really crazy- and really difficult. We got in about 5 miles together before Emily could no longer contain herself- she jumped out of the crew car and joined us on the road. Unfortunately Corey had to bail after 11 miles and drive all the back to Denver for work. He was solid, steady and it was an honor to run with him. Emily and I finished off the last 3 hours of the run chatting at times like we were on our first date. She is an angel to me and possibly the greatest friend a man has known. I could never have gotten this far without her to say the least.
Stepping...
As the miles continue to pile on I feel my body adjusting to the spirit of the run. I feel my natural state is while I am running. my body craves it- almost needs it. When I slow down or walk it feels unnatural and I cant stay there for long. I am no longer preoccupied with how many hours or miles we have left. I feel the work of The Superman Project, for now is in this run, so there is where my thoughts and energies stay. Maybe that is overly dramatic but it seems real. I know that I cannot save anyone by running across the state- but it is still my intention to share my thoughts and experiences in hopes that some spark will ignite and roar into a huge fire in the belly of someone out there lurking. As I get ready to sleep it occurs to me that we all travel great distances in our lives, but few people see the world as they move about. I feel tiny and insignificant when I consider the vast beautiful rolling hills and towering mountains around me. I am not sure if I will ever really understand all of this and what it means but I am sure somehow it will all come together in the end. But for now as I run across this gorgeous state my eyes aren't closed anymore, I'm looking, and I like what I see....
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Day 5 of run- Steps 6 &7
Step 6: "Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects
of character"
Step 7: "Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings"
Today I started the long journey from Hwy 9 to Silverthorne, through Dillon, over the pass to Frisco and finally on to Copper Mountain. Today's run comes the day after we climbed steady uphill all the way from Kremmling past Hot Sulpher Springs to Hwy 9 for almost 2000 feet of climbing. We ran a bit faster than was probably advised yesterday (running a 4:15 marathon after 3 hard thirtyish mile days of running in a row) and I think I paid for it today... more on that.
Saturday my parents came up to spend the next few days with Emily and I at base camp in Leadville and they were a welcomed sight. We went out to Tennessee Pass Cafe for dinner and got home and to bed before it was late. The morning came early (as always) and Emily, my dad and I set off to drive to the start of today's run. I knew when I mapped out the run that this would be one of the toughest sections and a real gut check.. I was right.
I have been running the first hour or two each morning to give myself time to sort through my thoughts and go over the spiritual part of my 12 steps across Colorado- today was no exception. I set off running and was provided immediate feedback by my body. Something along the lines of "what the f$#k are you doing? Stop running now!" My left foot caught on fire- my left butt check went numb and my right knee tightened like there was a tourniquet on it. The pattern over the last few days has been that it takes a few miles to get going before I feel like I can run reasonably well, so I tried to keep going and give my body a chance to adjust. Mile 1- no change. Mile 2- no change- Mile 3, 4, 5- no change. Oh shit. Doubt and worry started to worm there way in to my head. I had a simple thought that I made my mantra for the day "I'm not giving a single inch today- we are going to all the way Copper" I kept running past the crew car and shooting the "thumbs up" to Emily and my Dad even though I was hurting pretty bad. I never wanted Emily to be out running with me more in my life and I knew she was chomping at the bit to get out. But I needed to get close to Silverthorne before I asked her to run or I might just breakdown. I needed a reason to keep running through the pain- that reason was the thought that Emily could carry me the last 18-20 if I can make it to to Silverthorne...
I eventually ran through the worst of the knee pain after about 6-7 miles and started to feel genuinely spectacular when Emily joined me- and with a few exceptions that feeling lasted for the rest of the day. Emily and I ran through town and had a huge surprise along the way.. Chris Green showed up to run with us and meet us at various points along the course all the way until we left Frisco. After Chris left, Emily and I ran from Frisco to Copper along on a beautiful little trail that winds through the mountains along I-70. The snow started to fall on us and it was a beautiful moment caught in time. I have often seen this trail from the Hwy and I have always wondered what it would be like to run on it- now I will never forget it. We ran into Copper and all the way up to the big Copper Mountain sign- we hugged it and celebrated another run completed together.
12 Stepping away...
The City of Dillon represents a very important part of my life's journey and this run for recovery. In 2001-2003 I owned a retail furniture store in Dillon- I had a condo here, and I also sank very deep into my chemical addiction during this time. I remember telling a friend of mine then that I was crossing a line with my alcohol abuse that will be hard to return from. I used to close my store around 7pm and go to the liquor store every night to buy a bottle of Johnny Walker Red and a six pack of Heineken- my mission for the night was simple- drink it all. My substance abuse took on an interesting and dark personality change- I no longer wanted to drink- I had to. I was going to drink no matter how I felt, whether I wanted to or not or even if I was breaking down physically.
When I ran into Dillon today I stared to cry. It all came back to me. I ran past Murphy's Bar where I once was so drunk I couldn't stay on my barstool- I ran past my old condo and I ran past many old other ghosts and skeletons. I had a panic attack as I climbed the hill towards The Damn Road- I looked over at my old retail store and thought "what if this is all a dream?" What if I never went for a run in August of 2005? What if I never admitted I was powerless over alcohol? What if I was still in that store over there, sitting behind my desk with a bottle of Johnny Red right now? I choked back another wave of tears and kept running. I reaffirmed that I was alive, I was right here in this moment and in fact I started this run 140 miles ago on the border of Wyoming... Chalk one up to the power of redemption and stubborn will to not lay down and die.
You know, when I used to drink and abuse drugs daily it wasn't because there was no joy in my life. In fact I had many things that did in fact give me great pride.I was a dad- and I loved my kids like crazy. I had a business. I provided jobs and income to many families. I paid a lot of taxes and I serviced thousands of customers. But at night when the demons came out to play, I could never shake the thought that there was more to life. Well, I may not have a checking account with six figures anymore- but I cant remember the last time I wondered about life being empty. I know now there is so some much more to life than I ever thought possible... All I need is a little more time to get it right for myself and maybe help someone else along the way to see what I once couldn't find in fog.
The AA steps 6 & 7 are very intertwined to me and I couldn't really do one without also doing the other. The steps them selves need little explanation from me as they are personal and yet very easy to follow. That is if you can find that silent and calmly confident part of your soul that wants truth more than comfort. I can say this about 6 & 7- I have never been more ready in my life to have God help remove my shortcomings and defects. I have a new life. I am a new man. In many ways I am a new father. And I am getting ready to be a new husband. I don't want to make any mistakes, in any area, that I have already made. I know that deep inside I can be a better man. Less selfish. More nurturing and smarter... definitely smarter. I don't need to be perfect- just perfectly ready to be better. God I humbly ask you to remove my defects...
Step 7: "Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings"
Today I started the long journey from Hwy 9 to Silverthorne, through Dillon, over the pass to Frisco and finally on to Copper Mountain. Today's run comes the day after we climbed steady uphill all the way from Kremmling past Hot Sulpher Springs to Hwy 9 for almost 2000 feet of climbing. We ran a bit faster than was probably advised yesterday (running a 4:15 marathon after 3 hard thirtyish mile days of running in a row) and I think I paid for it today... more on that.
Saturday my parents came up to spend the next few days with Emily and I at base camp in Leadville and they were a welcomed sight. We went out to Tennessee Pass Cafe for dinner and got home and to bed before it was late. The morning came early (as always) and Emily, my dad and I set off to drive to the start of today's run. I knew when I mapped out the run that this would be one of the toughest sections and a real gut check.. I was right.
I have been running the first hour or two each morning to give myself time to sort through my thoughts and go over the spiritual part of my 12 steps across Colorado- today was no exception. I set off running and was provided immediate feedback by my body. Something along the lines of "what the f$#k are you doing? Stop running now!" My left foot caught on fire- my left butt check went numb and my right knee tightened like there was a tourniquet on it. The pattern over the last few days has been that it takes a few miles to get going before I feel like I can run reasonably well, so I tried to keep going and give my body a chance to adjust. Mile 1- no change. Mile 2- no change- Mile 3, 4, 5- no change. Oh shit. Doubt and worry started to worm there way in to my head. I had a simple thought that I made my mantra for the day "I'm not giving a single inch today- we are going to all the way Copper" I kept running past the crew car and shooting the "thumbs up" to Emily and my Dad even though I was hurting pretty bad. I never wanted Emily to be out running with me more in my life and I knew she was chomping at the bit to get out. But I needed to get close to Silverthorne before I asked her to run or I might just breakdown. I needed a reason to keep running through the pain- that reason was the thought that Emily could carry me the last 18-20 if I can make it to to Silverthorne...
I eventually ran through the worst of the knee pain after about 6-7 miles and started to feel genuinely spectacular when Emily joined me- and with a few exceptions that feeling lasted for the rest of the day. Emily and I ran through town and had a huge surprise along the way.. Chris Green showed up to run with us and meet us at various points along the course all the way until we left Frisco. After Chris left, Emily and I ran from Frisco to Copper along on a beautiful little trail that winds through the mountains along I-70. The snow started to fall on us and it was a beautiful moment caught in time. I have often seen this trail from the Hwy and I have always wondered what it would be like to run on it- now I will never forget it. We ran into Copper and all the way up to the big Copper Mountain sign- we hugged it and celebrated another run completed together.
12 Stepping away...
The City of Dillon represents a very important part of my life's journey and this run for recovery. In 2001-2003 I owned a retail furniture store in Dillon- I had a condo here, and I also sank very deep into my chemical addiction during this time. I remember telling a friend of mine then that I was crossing a line with my alcohol abuse that will be hard to return from. I used to close my store around 7pm and go to the liquor store every night to buy a bottle of Johnny Walker Red and a six pack of Heineken- my mission for the night was simple- drink it all. My substance abuse took on an interesting and dark personality change- I no longer wanted to drink- I had to. I was going to drink no matter how I felt, whether I wanted to or not or even if I was breaking down physically.
When I ran into Dillon today I stared to cry. It all came back to me. I ran past Murphy's Bar where I once was so drunk I couldn't stay on my barstool- I ran past my old condo and I ran past many old other ghosts and skeletons. I had a panic attack as I climbed the hill towards The Damn Road- I looked over at my old retail store and thought "what if this is all a dream?" What if I never went for a run in August of 2005? What if I never admitted I was powerless over alcohol? What if I was still in that store over there, sitting behind my desk with a bottle of Johnny Red right now? I choked back another wave of tears and kept running. I reaffirmed that I was alive, I was right here in this moment and in fact I started this run 140 miles ago on the border of Wyoming... Chalk one up to the power of redemption and stubborn will to not lay down and die.
You know, when I used to drink and abuse drugs daily it wasn't because there was no joy in my life. In fact I had many things that did in fact give me great pride.I was a dad- and I loved my kids like crazy. I had a business. I provided jobs and income to many families. I paid a lot of taxes and I serviced thousands of customers. But at night when the demons came out to play, I could never shake the thought that there was more to life. Well, I may not have a checking account with six figures anymore- but I cant remember the last time I wondered about life being empty. I know now there is so some much more to life than I ever thought possible... All I need is a little more time to get it right for myself and maybe help someone else along the way to see what I once couldn't find in fog.
The AA steps 6 & 7 are very intertwined to me and I couldn't really do one without also doing the other. The steps them selves need little explanation from me as they are personal and yet very easy to follow. That is if you can find that silent and calmly confident part of your soul that wants truth more than comfort. I can say this about 6 & 7- I have never been more ready in my life to have God help remove my shortcomings and defects. I have a new life. I am a new man. In many ways I am a new father. And I am getting ready to be a new husband. I don't want to make any mistakes, in any area, that I have already made. I know that deep inside I can be a better man. Less selfish. More nurturing and smarter... definitely smarter. I don't need to be perfect- just perfectly ready to be better. God I humbly ask you to remove my defects...
Friday, May 11, 2012
Third Day of Run- Step 5
"Admitted to God, to ourselves and to another human being
the exact nature of our wrongs."
Somethings need no explanation...
Fearless Recovery.
Friday 5/11
32 Miles from the Continental Divide to Kremmling
This morning I was struggling. I was feeling the weight of the entire journey and what a commitment all this is. Not just for me but for Emily and all my friends and family. I was hurting on both the inside and out. My energy was low- I was sore and I was feeling a bit out of sorts. The lessons of my recovery served me well as I walked over to the stake we put in the ground to mark yesterday's finish line and today's start. I knew that if I tried to own the weight of this entire run, the impact of it and the commitment of all people involved- it would crush me. I trust my ability, I trust the cause and I trust all those who have decided that it is a worthy effort to devote their time to. I touched the stake to signify the beginning of today's journey and I started running.
I was moving like I had sludge in my veins. I was less than a mile into the run and my feet were already killing me and my heart rate was skyrocketing. I just kept moving forward. I knew I had to run a couple hours on my own because Nico and Em had to drive all the way back to Walden to do a little "car rodeo" so I just tried to focus my mind on running as smooth and light as possible. I made about three miles and I saw the sign for The Continental Divide- I stopped and took a photo and looked around at the beauty surrounding me. I looked down at my running shoes, I looked up into the sky, I turned my wrist over and saw the water bottle in my hand. An old familiar thought hit me "my worst day running- is better than my best day as a drunk" and with that a huge smile spread across my face. I knew what I had to do... run. Run with joy.
With a step I was gone and knocking off 8-9 minutes miles and watching the scenery fly by. In no time I had run about 10 miles and the crew had caught up with me. Nico took the first shift with me and we banged out a few miles and had some laughs. We talked about books and booze and how lucky we are to able to run. We even got an entire herd of cattle to take off and run down the prairie with us. Nico has paced me on almost every single big run or race I have ever done. He is one of the greatest humans I have met and I am proud to be his friend.
Next up was my bunny Emily to carry me the last 8 miles or so home to the hotel. My body knows when Emily is around. My natural running instincts wake up and respond to her. It has been this way since the very first time I ran with her. I felt like I had a renewed energy and focus and we ran up hill and downhill and all the way back to Kremmling. Emily shared a few beautiful thoughts she read about on sobriety and I actually broke down into tears as we ran and talked. The rain hit us for the last couple miles and we even got caught in some hail. Nico took pictures crewed us in and even met us on the road in the rain to run the last little bit home, all three of us.
As I type this I am relaxing at the hotel with Em- and I am feeling good- my legs feel strong- and I am grateful for every moment of the day. I should add that after we got back to the hotel I went to take an ice bath- Emily jumped on the treadmill... really.
David.
Somethings need no explanation...
Fearless Recovery.
Friday 5/11
32 Miles from the Continental Divide to Kremmling
This morning I was struggling. I was feeling the weight of the entire journey and what a commitment all this is. Not just for me but for Emily and all my friends and family. I was hurting on both the inside and out. My energy was low- I was sore and I was feeling a bit out of sorts. The lessons of my recovery served me well as I walked over to the stake we put in the ground to mark yesterday's finish line and today's start. I knew that if I tried to own the weight of this entire run, the impact of it and the commitment of all people involved- it would crush me. I trust my ability, I trust the cause and I trust all those who have decided that it is a worthy effort to devote their time to. I touched the stake to signify the beginning of today's journey and I started running.
I was moving like I had sludge in my veins. I was less than a mile into the run and my feet were already killing me and my heart rate was skyrocketing. I just kept moving forward. I knew I had to run a couple hours on my own because Nico and Em had to drive all the way back to Walden to do a little "car rodeo" so I just tried to focus my mind on running as smooth and light as possible. I made about three miles and I saw the sign for The Continental Divide- I stopped and took a photo and looked around at the beauty surrounding me. I looked down at my running shoes, I looked up into the sky, I turned my wrist over and saw the water bottle in my hand. An old familiar thought hit me "my worst day running- is better than my best day as a drunk" and with that a huge smile spread across my face. I knew what I had to do... run. Run with joy.
With a step I was gone and knocking off 8-9 minutes miles and watching the scenery fly by. In no time I had run about 10 miles and the crew had caught up with me. Nico took the first shift with me and we banged out a few miles and had some laughs. We talked about books and booze and how lucky we are to able to run. We even got an entire herd of cattle to take off and run down the prairie with us. Nico has paced me on almost every single big run or race I have ever done. He is one of the greatest humans I have met and I am proud to be his friend.
Next up was my bunny Emily to carry me the last 8 miles or so home to the hotel. My body knows when Emily is around. My natural running instincts wake up and respond to her. It has been this way since the very first time I ran with her. I felt like I had a renewed energy and focus and we ran up hill and downhill and all the way back to Kremmling. Emily shared a few beautiful thoughts she read about on sobriety and I actually broke down into tears as we ran and talked. The rain hit us for the last couple miles and we even got caught in some hail. Nico took pictures crewed us in and even met us on the road in the rain to run the last little bit home, all three of us.
As I type this I am relaxing at the hotel with Em- and I am feeling good- my legs feel strong- and I am grateful for every moment of the day. I should add that after we got back to the hotel I went to take an ice bath- Emily jumped on the treadmill... really.
David.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Second Day of Run- Step 4
"Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves."
It takes a great deal of courage to look directly into the quality of your character- especially in your lowest moments. If there is one thing that I have learned about myself it is that I am capable of just about anything; heart warming compassion and mind blowing selfishness. It is impossible I think to abuse drugs and alcohol without engaging in extreme deception and dishonesty. First you lose the ability to be honest with your self. You drink, you use, you justify, you manipulate and you repeat- always repeat. Then, you let the deception spread into your family and friends. You start by hiding from others how important it is for you to use. Then you graduate to lying about how much you are using, how bad it is making you feel and ultimately how deep into the addiction abyss you have fallen.
It takes a great deal of courage to look directly into the quality of your character- especially in your lowest moments. If there is one thing that I have learned about myself it is that I am capable of just about anything; heart warming compassion and mind blowing selfishness. It is impossible I think to abuse drugs and alcohol without engaging in extreme deception and dishonesty. First you lose the ability to be honest with your self. You drink, you use, you justify, you manipulate and you repeat- always repeat. Then, you let the deception spread into your family and friends. You start by hiding from others how important it is for you to use. Then you graduate to lying about how much you are using, how bad it is making you feel and ultimately how deep into the addiction abyss you have fallen.
I am not for this blog post going to share the
intimate details of my inventory, but I will say this… I am selfish. I have
lied. I have stolen. I have hurt people. I have committed crimes and I have
been a very mistrusting, manipulative and cynical man in my past. But at the
same time I have always been a good friend. I have been honest in the face of incrimination.
I have been brave in the face of fear. And I have tried to always put my family and my country above all else. I also know that who I am is not defined by
any one event or even series of events, but by how I act in each moment from now on.
When I look at the
contradiction and extremity of my emotional and moral spectrum it seems confusing. But on second inspection it occurs to me that given the extreme
nature of my personality it should probably not come as a great surprise that
other areas of my life and condition would mirror my intensity. The most difficult part of a fearless inventory for me is putting into perspective my personal drive to compete (selfishness) and my sincere effort to help others find recovery (selflessness). I refuse to talk about my efforts with The Superman Project- hopefully my actions here will stand on their own. But I will say that I am capable of
being very selfish, I know it. I have been so incredibly selfish in the past that it
shames me to simply brink it back into my conscious. But I have also been so
selfless at times that I have caused great harm in my personal life by putting everyone
else ahead of my own well-being. So what’s the deal? I will admit that I am
guilty of pushing back at times if confronted with an accusation of
selfishness. And it’s easy to argue persuasively against it. But engaging in this type of fearless look inside helps me to see the fallacy in arguing against being selfish- I can only own that I am and try to do better.
So what did I learn in the hours I spent looking into my soul? Well, I learned it’s painful to look honestly into your own behavior and strip
it down to its base layer. But what the hell- this is recovery and the one thing we cannot do
this without is honesty. I am both selfish and selfless at times. Kind and cruel. But I strive to balance these forces and ultimately behave in a way that I will put on the "good side" of my balance sheet next go around. We are complex beings to say the least and I will not attempt
to transcribe for you (or me) the navigational morality of human behavior. I
will say that I have looked deep into my soul. I have seen the dark in me, the
bad in me, and also the light and pure parts of me that I would like to pass on
to my children. I am human- I am flawed
and I am a better man today than I was yesterday. One more step, one more mile, one more time…
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
First Day of Run- Step Three
"Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to
the care of God as we understood Him."
This morning I woke up, put on my running-shoes and ate some breakfast- pretty normal stuff. My plan was to start the day with a nice long run through the mountains of about 23 miles with some hills- again, nothing abnormal here. What was different about today was where the run would start- and where I would be when I considered it done.
I was on my way to the Wyoming border for the start of the 300 Mile Recovery Run- a run that will involve a crew of several volunteers, my fiancee sacrificing two weeks from her already loaded work schedule, a host of generous benefactors and a community wide effort to help people struggling with addiction. This cross state trek will cover over 300 miles, go over four rocky mountain passes, last 10 days or more and will include me and and my friends running 30-35 miles a day to finish at the New Mexico state line. None of this was lost on me as I sat in the passenger seat looking out the window taking in the rolling hills and mountain ranges. I couldn't help but think of everything that has transpired in my life over the last seven years. All of the many interwoven and interdependent events that had to occur to deliver me to this exact moment and this exact place. Where was I seven years ago today? How did I get here?
After a quick photo at the WY/CO state line I gave kiss to Emily and a hug to our friend Becky and set off on my journey. I started running and immediately took notice of the altitude change (8800 feet at the start). I looked around at the beautiful surroundings and found peace in the fact that whatever happens moving forward, it was a gift just to be able to attempt something like this. As my heart rate settled down and my pace locked in I let my mind go to the third step of AA.
"Made a decision to turn or will over to the care of God as we understood him..."
I immediately went into a somewhat defensive stance as I mulled this one over. People will think I am crazy if I tell them that I turned my life over to God. And moreover- they wont believe me! People know me for being a guy that tends to take action when I want to do something- I am deliberate and I am determined to say it politely- a bulldog at times to say it honestly. How does that fit into the concept of turning over your will to God?
I believe one of the universal struggles of humans in general, and addicts in particular, is feeling the need to try to control things. I know I have struggled with this my whole life. And in fact there were times in my life where it seemed to serve me quite well. But then again, I did end up puking blood into the toilet everyday for years- so maybe it didn't really serve me as well as I first thought. While I am on the subject, I think its safe to say that for all of my efforts to stay on top of details and try to be 10 steps ahead of life's next challenge- it was always something unforeseen that would jump out of bushes and kick me in the balls and subsequently send me back to the bar to try to architect a better plan. More control, more planning, more monitoring.... yeah right.
Turning my will over to the care of God meant admitting that control is really an illusion at best- an obsession at worst. Trying to figure everything out and put it into neat little files was going to drive me crazy and make me kill myself in the process. I believe in the big picture of the universe things are working pretty well and efficiently. The sun rises everyday- sets at night, season change- flowers bloom; impressive. So the only real control I was ever going to have was to accept that God was out there- his plan was probably better than mine- and I need to stop worrying about things I cant control. What I can control is how I respond to the events that transpire in my universe. I can be in charge of my behavior, my emotions and my reactions. That is if I can just relax for moment and breathe as the world spins on it own.
This isn't to say that I subscribe to a "whatever happens, happens" attitude. I work hard. I try to bring about the best, most favorable circumstances I can. I strive to provide for my family, protect the ones I love, and to help others that could benefit from my experiences. But I know that ultimately- its in his hands- and I'm OK with that. I'm betting his plan doesn't include lounging in the gutter of life. I'm sure his plan includes me using all the measure of my God given attributes. My reason, my logic, my experience, my emotion and my love- to craft a life that I can be proud of. A life that I can openly share every detail of, including the embarrassing stuff- because I have nothing to hide anymore. I am OK with whatever happens. I trust that nothing in God's plan includes a hardship that I am unable to overcome. I don't always like what happens in my life- but I like my chances of handling it well with a clean and sober and thankful heart.
300 RUN- DAY ONE:
Today we started with a "short" run of 23 miles from the WY border to Walden. The terrain was significantly more hilly than expected and we did run into the wind all day- however, we had a great first day! Emily ran about 12-13 miles with me and Becky drove all the way out to Walden to be our crew chief, volunteer and driver.
I did have a weird piriformis issue that caused some pain and numbness after 18 miles or so- but my legs feel fresh and I am feeling ready for tomorrow. I fear that if the people of Walden were to be made aware of our veganism we would be pulled from our hotel and feed to the cows that are surrounding the motel complex. If we disappear, please look for Emily's laptop and my Herbalife hat in the pastures...
David.
This morning I woke up, put on my running-shoes and ate some breakfast- pretty normal stuff. My plan was to start the day with a nice long run through the mountains of about 23 miles with some hills- again, nothing abnormal here. What was different about today was where the run would start- and where I would be when I considered it done.
I was on my way to the Wyoming border for the start of the 300 Mile Recovery Run- a run that will involve a crew of several volunteers, my fiancee sacrificing two weeks from her already loaded work schedule, a host of generous benefactors and a community wide effort to help people struggling with addiction. This cross state trek will cover over 300 miles, go over four rocky mountain passes, last 10 days or more and will include me and and my friends running 30-35 miles a day to finish at the New Mexico state line. None of this was lost on me as I sat in the passenger seat looking out the window taking in the rolling hills and mountain ranges. I couldn't help but think of everything that has transpired in my life over the last seven years. All of the many interwoven and interdependent events that had to occur to deliver me to this exact moment and this exact place. Where was I seven years ago today? How did I get here?
After a quick photo at the WY/CO state line I gave kiss to Emily and a hug to our friend Becky and set off on my journey. I started running and immediately took notice of the altitude change (8800 feet at the start). I looked around at the beautiful surroundings and found peace in the fact that whatever happens moving forward, it was a gift just to be able to attempt something like this. As my heart rate settled down and my pace locked in I let my mind go to the third step of AA.
"Made a decision to turn or will over to the care of God as we understood him..."
I immediately went into a somewhat defensive stance as I mulled this one over. People will think I am crazy if I tell them that I turned my life over to God. And moreover- they wont believe me! People know me for being a guy that tends to take action when I want to do something- I am deliberate and I am determined to say it politely- a bulldog at times to say it honestly. How does that fit into the concept of turning over your will to God?
I believe one of the universal struggles of humans in general, and addicts in particular, is feeling the need to try to control things. I know I have struggled with this my whole life. And in fact there were times in my life where it seemed to serve me quite well. But then again, I did end up puking blood into the toilet everyday for years- so maybe it didn't really serve me as well as I first thought. While I am on the subject, I think its safe to say that for all of my efforts to stay on top of details and try to be 10 steps ahead of life's next challenge- it was always something unforeseen that would jump out of bushes and kick me in the balls and subsequently send me back to the bar to try to architect a better plan. More control, more planning, more monitoring.... yeah right.
Turning my will over to the care of God meant admitting that control is really an illusion at best- an obsession at worst. Trying to figure everything out and put it into neat little files was going to drive me crazy and make me kill myself in the process. I believe in the big picture of the universe things are working pretty well and efficiently. The sun rises everyday- sets at night, season change- flowers bloom; impressive. So the only real control I was ever going to have was to accept that God was out there- his plan was probably better than mine- and I need to stop worrying about things I cant control. What I can control is how I respond to the events that transpire in my universe. I can be in charge of my behavior, my emotions and my reactions. That is if I can just relax for moment and breathe as the world spins on it own.
This isn't to say that I subscribe to a "whatever happens, happens" attitude. I work hard. I try to bring about the best, most favorable circumstances I can. I strive to provide for my family, protect the ones I love, and to help others that could benefit from my experiences. But I know that ultimately- its in his hands- and I'm OK with that. I'm betting his plan doesn't include lounging in the gutter of life. I'm sure his plan includes me using all the measure of my God given attributes. My reason, my logic, my experience, my emotion and my love- to craft a life that I can be proud of. A life that I can openly share every detail of, including the embarrassing stuff- because I have nothing to hide anymore. I am OK with whatever happens. I trust that nothing in God's plan includes a hardship that I am unable to overcome. I don't always like what happens in my life- but I like my chances of handling it well with a clean and sober and thankful heart.
300 RUN- DAY ONE:
Today we started with a "short" run of 23 miles from the WY border to Walden. The terrain was significantly more hilly than expected and we did run into the wind all day- however, we had a great first day! Emily ran about 12-13 miles with me and Becky drove all the way out to Walden to be our crew chief, volunteer and driver.
I did have a weird piriformis issue that caused some pain and numbness after 18 miles or so- but my legs feel fresh and I am feeling ready for tomorrow. I fear that if the people of Walden were to be made aware of our veganism we would be pulled from our hotel and feed to the cows that are surrounding the motel complex. If we disappear, please look for Emily's laptop and my Herbalife hat in the pastures...
David.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Day Two- Step Two
"Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could
restore us to sanity."
Today on my 3 hour drive to the hotel and starting line of The 300 Mile Recovery Run, I had a lot of time to think about the big picture of my life and how what I do and say affects those that I love. When I think of all the good times I have had in my recovery, all the precious little moments with my children and my fiancee that never would have happened were I still using, I feel vertigo from being so overwhelmed. To think 100's of hockey games, movie nights or simple sober conversations would all be erased if I had just one more drink years ago. In these moments I feel the presence of something bigger than me in the universe.
Many people in recovery struggle greatly with the concept of a higher power. For me it is the simple awareness that there is something much greater in the world than me or the person standing next to me. There is morality, and honor and truth and love, all of which are much greater in impact and importance than whether I, David Clark ever walked on the earth. I think of bravery, patriotism, chaos theory and years of studying chemistry and biology. They all lead me to the conclusion that nothing here is completely random and without meaning. I believe as Voltaire said "Surely the existence of a watch is proof of a watch maker. What then are you and I proof of if not a creator?"
I don't subscribe to any organized religion that I am aware of. I believe in evolution, science and intelligent design. And I believe there is a power in the way the universe works that can help me and others find their way back home from addiction. There was a thought I kept revisiting when I first wrestled with this concept of a higher power; "If I knew so much about life and the universe, and if I really had an inside bead on the fallacy of religion and life, why was so screwed up that I couldn't even manage to go a few hours without numbing myself and exiting from reality?" Maybe I didn't really know so much after all. And maybe since I am not doing such a bang up job of managing my life and abstaining from substance abuse- I should just surrender it all and see what happens... What I found out in the process was that surrender was not an act of weakness at all, but perhaps the most powerful and strong moment of my entire life. Sometimes I guess, strength can come from seeing how weak you really are...
So that is that. I believed then, and I believe now that there is something greater than me out there. I believe that power helped me find my way back to sanity and has kept me there for some time now. But I must never forget how difficult it was back in the first few moments of my sobriety. In fact it was not just difficult- it was a huge blind leap into the abyss of faith. I had no idea what the future would look like, I certainly didn't know how it would be possible to never drink again. But I did know that if I didn't get of the merry go round I would die- I took out my matches and started burning every bridge behind me I could see; Whats next?
Today on my 3 hour drive to the hotel and starting line of The 300 Mile Recovery Run, I had a lot of time to think about the big picture of my life and how what I do and say affects those that I love. When I think of all the good times I have had in my recovery, all the precious little moments with my children and my fiancee that never would have happened were I still using, I feel vertigo from being so overwhelmed. To think 100's of hockey games, movie nights or simple sober conversations would all be erased if I had just one more drink years ago. In these moments I feel the presence of something bigger than me in the universe.
Many people in recovery struggle greatly with the concept of a higher power. For me it is the simple awareness that there is something much greater in the world than me or the person standing next to me. There is morality, and honor and truth and love, all of which are much greater in impact and importance than whether I, David Clark ever walked on the earth. I think of bravery, patriotism, chaos theory and years of studying chemistry and biology. They all lead me to the conclusion that nothing here is completely random and without meaning. I believe as Voltaire said "Surely the existence of a watch is proof of a watch maker. What then are you and I proof of if not a creator?"
I don't subscribe to any organized religion that I am aware of. I believe in evolution, science and intelligent design. And I believe there is a power in the way the universe works that can help me and others find their way back home from addiction. There was a thought I kept revisiting when I first wrestled with this concept of a higher power; "If I knew so much about life and the universe, and if I really had an inside bead on the fallacy of religion and life, why was so screwed up that I couldn't even manage to go a few hours without numbing myself and exiting from reality?" Maybe I didn't really know so much after all. And maybe since I am not doing such a bang up job of managing my life and abstaining from substance abuse- I should just surrender it all and see what happens... What I found out in the process was that surrender was not an act of weakness at all, but perhaps the most powerful and strong moment of my entire life. Sometimes I guess, strength can come from seeing how weak you really are...
So that is that. I believed then, and I believe now that there is something greater than me out there. I believe that power helped me find my way back to sanity and has kept me there for some time now. But I must never forget how difficult it was back in the first few moments of my sobriety. In fact it was not just difficult- it was a huge blind leap into the abyss of faith. I had no idea what the future would look like, I certainly didn't know how it would be possible to never drink again. But I did know that if I didn't get of the merry go round I would die- I took out my matches and started burning every bridge behind me I could see; Whats next?
12 Steps in 12 Days
Twelve days from today, providing everything goes exactly as planned... (Gods please be not tempted) I will be finishing my 300 mile run for recovery. As a person in recovery myself, I know that to lead a life of sobriety and honesty I must constantly be willing to revisit the shadows of my past and vigilantly ask tough questions like "Why?". Why did I feel the compulsion to drink myself nearly to death? Why did I medicate myself with drugs and food as my health deteriorated and my weight skyrocketed?" I feel there is value to my own recovery in seeking the truth to these questions but I also feel the better the understanding I have of my own behavior, the better my chances are to help others find their own path to peace.
So, I am taking 12 steps over the next 12 days as I make my way through the Colorado Rockies. Yes, The 12 steps. The ones you always read about in books or see in the daytime made for TV movies. The 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous. Now those of you who know me know that I don't fit the profile of your "average" AA 12 stepper- true enough. But that doesn't mean I'm not an advocate for the self discovery and spiritual awakening that can occur from tackling such concepts as "completing a fearless moral inventory" or "making amends for harm caused to others" In fact contrary to some opinions, the paths I run aren't always of the mountainous variety, and even a llama dancing Irish guy takes a deep spiritual trail now and again- I certainly didn't get to 2467 days in recovery without sifting through the bones on my closet floor every now and again.
Some background information:
Most of the 12 steps I have covered already in my soon to be 7 year path to sobriety. Some I have landed on only briefly enough to touch my shoe before passing along quickly- and others I have taken out of order or skipped over completely. Not this time. During this 300 mile journey of recovery I will take each step one at a time, and as fearlessly as possible. I will carry each one with me for miles, and miles, and miles. And then I will share them with you- if you are interested, of course.
I will post one step each day over the next 12 as I make my way from Wyoming to New Mexico. The first two steps will be completed as I prepare for the run- the last ten steps will be done each day as I run along the divide from north to south. I will start the morning with the "Day's Step" in my mind- and I will turn it over, look through it, and take it part as I run. I will search every corner of my soul for the unwashed truth, and at night as I lay in bed I will share a potion of my thoughts with you. My hope is by sharing my personal thoughts, somehow we connect on a level that means something personal to you- perhaps my feelings will mirror your own, or speak to you in a language that will translate to your own journey or to someone whom you love.
Day 1- Monday May 7th
"We admitted we were powerless over alcohol - that our lives had become unmanageable."
Like most alcoholics I struggled with this step greatly- and in fact it had me trapped in a soul shattering and sanity bending melee that lasted 15 years or longer. Admitting that I was an alcoholic meant I was weak. I did not define myself as a weak individual. After all I had manged to own a chain of retail stores at 29 years old- I didn't get there by being weak or having an unmanageable life. So I resisted. I argued and fought battles inside my head non stop every day. I tried to convince myself that I was just stressed from work. Or that I needed to just "get back into the gym". Or maybe even what I was doing was normal for people in my position- after all I had a lot of people depending an me- So what if I need to have a few (30) drinks and shake of the day...?
One night a thought hit me so hard that it made the blood drain out of my face and left me feeling hollow and exposed all in an instant; "I'll bet people who aren't alcoholics don't lay awake all night long wondering if they are alcoholics" Damn. Game over.
I gave up the ghost. My ass was getting kicked; even I could see that much. I figured if I displayed every characteristic of addictive behavior towards alcohol, then certainly I must be addicted to it. And if I am addicted to alcohol- I shouldn't drink. Period. After years of trying to find the elusive logarithm of responsible drinking (drink only on weekends- beer only- only drink if I have worked out that day.. etc) I knew I was never going to figure it out. I was also very aware of one inescapable and frightening truth; my drinking was getting worse. Not only was it getting worse, it didn't seem to make a difference what negative consequence my drink brought- vomiting blood, shaking violently in the morning, DUI's- I forgave alcohol for the horrible things it was doing to me, and I kept on drinking. I even kept drinking when my heart starting beating so inexplicably fast that I was put on 48 hour cardiac watch. I even drank hours after the doctor told me that my blood pressure was so dangerously high that he didn't want to leave the office without taking medication. Now that I thought about it, my life was completely unmanageable. And who was I kidding? I had absolutely no control over alcohol at all.That sounds like step one....
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
I Should Be Dead
I should be dead that is for sure. No less than a thousand times in the last ten years of my substance abuse career I woke up with no idea what happened the night before or how I made it home. The fear would usually well up inside me building up as I explored the void of the previous night's events and its possible alternate endings. I would simultaneously experience relief (that I was alive) and abject shame of what I might have done. The good news- if there was any- was that I usually didn't have much time to stew in my thoughts before the violent shaking that would catapult me onto the floor would begin to rattle in my bones.
But I am not dead- far from it. In fact I have a great life. I have three amazing children and at 41 years old I am engaged to a woman who makes me skip and dance down the hall. Don't get me wrong, my life is galaxies away from perfect and I still have moments where my behavior makes me fear for my sanity. But mostly what I feel these days is joy and a gratitude so real you can put it on a scale and weigh it. So what happened? What was my "rock bottom" moment? The answer is simple- I don't honestly know.
I can describe in exacting detail the process of my struggle to get clean. I can tell you how I leveraged my demons and scratched and clawed my way to a new life in a daily battle to quiet my twisted addict's mind. I can even share how I changed the very idea of who I was, and in turn changed almost everything about my behavior. But I cant say with any real measure of certainty why on August 5th, 2005 when I said I wasn't going to drink anymore- for the first time in 5000 consecutive mornings- I wasn't lying.
The reality is I was lucky. One different turn, one more or one less drink before hitting the road, one extra Vicodin in the hand full of pills I regularly mixed with alcohol, and maybe it is my son sitting here typing on his blog, sharing with you why he thinks his dad didn't love him enough to quit drinking, and asking why the hell I drank himself to death without asking for help...
No doubt about it, fucking "buy a lotto ticket" lucky, man.
So why I am telling you all this you ask?
I am telling you this because in a couple days I am going to try to do something special for addiction awareness and I want everyone to know why. One obvious reason I want to run across Colorado is quite simply because I don't know if I can do it. I think that by pushing through my fears and constantly seeking to challenge myself athletically, I am setting the standard and expectation for both my physical and spiritual growth. But most importantly, I hope from the most sincere and untouched corner of my heart, that someone who might be lost in the dark place of addiction will hear of our run. Or maybe even someone will see us run by the front of their house or down their street, and they will pause for just a second to see that people are strong- All people are strong- and we are all capable of doing so much more than we think is possible. And if I can get just one person to put down the drink and not use drugs for long enough to see themselves as strong- I feel I may have earned a small extraction of the incalculable blessings set on me over the last 7 years...
The truth is we never know when that moment of redemption will come. That moment when the lie becomes the truth. The moment when that promise to pull yourself up from the gutter and fight back isn't just a fleeting moment of bravado- Its a genuine super-powered miracle of self awareness. By running across Colorado and fighting my own fear of public failure, I hope to help others find their moment of strength. Now, before you call me delusional... I want to acknowledge that I cant make anyone stronger than they already are- I know that. Even as a trainer and coach, I know that people may get stronger if I push them- but ultimately the strength was always there laying in wait and ready to manifest when the stimulus warranted the response.
Maybe its just my skewed perspective, but I see the addict who has been beaten down, abused and broken as something more than a wayward soul- I see potential beauty. The power and vibrancy that comes from battling back from the depths of hell produces a radiant glow so inspiring and breathtaking that it cant help but make us all see humans as perfectly designed survivors capable of complete and total transformation. But the most immaculate truth of redemption's beauty is that it cannot accurately be seen in the reflection of a mirror- it can only wholly be observed in the eyes of another addict who has yet to accept that their fall from grace is merely temporary, and can ultimately carry them to a place where nothing is impossible.
David.
But I am not dead- far from it. In fact I have a great life. I have three amazing children and at 41 years old I am engaged to a woman who makes me skip and dance down the hall. Don't get me wrong, my life is galaxies away from perfect and I still have moments where my behavior makes me fear for my sanity. But mostly what I feel these days is joy and a gratitude so real you can put it on a scale and weigh it. So what happened? What was my "rock bottom" moment? The answer is simple- I don't honestly know.
I can describe in exacting detail the process of my struggle to get clean. I can tell you how I leveraged my demons and scratched and clawed my way to a new life in a daily battle to quiet my twisted addict's mind. I can even share how I changed the very idea of who I was, and in turn changed almost everything about my behavior. But I cant say with any real measure of certainty why on August 5th, 2005 when I said I wasn't going to drink anymore- for the first time in 5000 consecutive mornings- I wasn't lying.
The reality is I was lucky. One different turn, one more or one less drink before hitting the road, one extra Vicodin in the hand full of pills I regularly mixed with alcohol, and maybe it is my son sitting here typing on his blog, sharing with you why he thinks his dad didn't love him enough to quit drinking, and asking why the hell I drank himself to death without asking for help...
No doubt about it, fucking "buy a lotto ticket" lucky, man.
So why I am telling you all this you ask?
I am telling you this because in a couple days I am going to try to do something special for addiction awareness and I want everyone to know why. One obvious reason I want to run across Colorado is quite simply because I don't know if I can do it. I think that by pushing through my fears and constantly seeking to challenge myself athletically, I am setting the standard and expectation for both my physical and spiritual growth. But most importantly, I hope from the most sincere and untouched corner of my heart, that someone who might be lost in the dark place of addiction will hear of our run. Or maybe even someone will see us run by the front of their house or down their street, and they will pause for just a second to see that people are strong- All people are strong- and we are all capable of doing so much more than we think is possible. And if I can get just one person to put down the drink and not use drugs for long enough to see themselves as strong- I feel I may have earned a small extraction of the incalculable blessings set on me over the last 7 years...
The truth is we never know when that moment of redemption will come. That moment when the lie becomes the truth. The moment when that promise to pull yourself up from the gutter and fight back isn't just a fleeting moment of bravado- Its a genuine super-powered miracle of self awareness. By running across Colorado and fighting my own fear of public failure, I hope to help others find their moment of strength. Now, before you call me delusional... I want to acknowledge that I cant make anyone stronger than they already are- I know that. Even as a trainer and coach, I know that people may get stronger if I push them- but ultimately the strength was always there laying in wait and ready to manifest when the stimulus warranted the response.
Maybe its just my skewed perspective, but I see the addict who has been beaten down, abused and broken as something more than a wayward soul- I see potential beauty. The power and vibrancy that comes from battling back from the depths of hell produces a radiant glow so inspiring and breathtaking that it cant help but make us all see humans as perfectly designed survivors capable of complete and total transformation. But the most immaculate truth of redemption's beauty is that it cannot accurately be seen in the reflection of a mirror- it can only wholly be observed in the eyes of another addict who has yet to accept that their fall from grace is merely temporary, and can ultimately carry them to a place where nothing is impossible.
David.
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