Today is just a random Saturday to many of us. The start of the weekend. A day to sleep in… catch up and make memories.
Six years ago on this day in June after another night of black out drinking… I woke up on a tear-stained pillow realizing change was a must.
I had been down this road before. I had conquered my demons, had challenged booze and won… but had I?
I remember seeing my sneakers laying in the corner, the laces were so bright and beautiful.
My head was pounding. My heart was heavy. My addictive thoughts were already trying to convince me “I don’t need to quit” and to crawl back to the darkness where I was safe from reality, humility, admission, and repair.
I stumbled out of bed, so weak I could barely stand up. Beads of sweat rolled down my face.
I made it to the mirror, and with every amount of strength had left in me… promised myself I would set out to beat this disease, and spend the rest of my days helping those who felt hopeless do the same.
I managed to tie my laces, and go out to the place where my healing journey began… the open road. As I worked the steps of this book… the steps on that asphalt became my best friend.
It listened intently, it spoke to me softly, and it showed my healing and recovery was possible… one run at a time.
Today is just a day to some… but to me, it’s everything.
2,193 days of taking my life back… doing the deep shit work of admitting my own crap, and pushing to become better.
I am forever grateful to the people that took my hand when I was weak, that loved me unconditionally through my worst, and who I still count on today to help me stay accountable.
Like a sunflower, even on my darkest days… I stood to face the light.
Recovery is not only possible… it’s wonderful.