Every once in a while I take time to visit my porch. It’s a quiet place looking out into farm fields, the road I run every day, and the occasional passerby walking their dog.
This porch has tremendous meaning. It used to be the place where I would drink as much alcohol as I could, eat too much crap, and dwell in self-pity about how I wanted my world to change so badly. It was a place to contemplate how much I hated the choices I was making in my life.
My porch today takes on a much different meaning. I sit out here now so incredibly grateful for the lives I’ve touched, and those who have steadily helped me get here.
I log my running miles, reflect on my training, meditate and focus on the things that I aspire to be. I give thanks for the universe and God, and I appreciate everything spiritually.
I seek stillness, all while sober, healthy, and knowing that I can dream, be, and achieve anything I damn want to…
My porch was a place I used to dread visiting because I knew the sadness that was tear-stained on its wood.
Today my porch sees and witnesses a different me. The wood of its foundation is solid and strong, tough and weathered… just like the woman who sits there now and rejoices. She is me… and she is happy 🖤.
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