Loneliness Is the Long-Distance Drinker
What I try to control controls me.
I once was a runner; not a jogger. What I did wasn't jogging. I ran. I gave it all I could. During 10-20-mile training runs, I did about 7:30 a mile. In marathons and shorter races, I was right around seven minutes. That's far from world-class time, but it was good enough for second place sometimes and for a top-three finish in my age group often.
I loved to run, but it controlled me. For some time, I got up before dawn and ran five miles through town. Then I went home at lunchtime and, instead of eating, ran wind sprints. I was running three times a day. After a few marathons, I qualified and ran in the Boston Marathon. One Thanksgiving weekend, I ran a 50-mile race.
After the 50-miler, I had to be taken by ambulance to the hospital due to dehydration. That day, running controlled me, not the other way around.
By the time I reached middle age, my knee gave out and I needed surgery to remove cartilage. It still hurt. I tried a sports chiropractor and paid lots of money. I could run for a while, but then I hurt again.
In the years that followed, I ran when I could and felt empty when I couldn't. I had lost control.
I switched to controlling friends, family, my job, my finances.... But in the end, they all controlled me instead. I turned to alcohol. I could control that.
I did for a while. Then alcohol controlled me. I couldn't stop. I passed out and blacked out and threw up. I felt sick and shook when I didn't drink, so I needed more to feel "normal."
This went on for several years. I wasn't myself anymore and controlled nothing, not even myself. I had to be treated for depression.
Earlier this year, I gave all my misery to God. I turned control of my life over to Him. My sadness became joy. I have been sober for only seven months, but the little voice in me that told me things would be different this time if I tried to drink has been silenced.
I'm a new person today. I let go and let God. What I tried to control controlled me. Now I take one step at a time. Those steps are walked, not run,
I once was a runner; not a jogger. What I did wasn't jogging. I ran. I gave it all I could. During 10-20-mile training runs, I did about 7:30 a mile. In marathons and shorter races, I was right around seven minutes. That's far from world-class time, but it was good enough for second place sometimes and for a top-three finish in my age group often.
After the 50-miler, I had to be taken by ambulance to the hospital due to dehydration. That day, running controlled me, not the other way around.
By the time I reached middle age, my knee gave out and I needed surgery to remove cartilage. It still hurt. I tried a sports chiropractor and paid lots of money. I could run for a while, but then I hurt again.
In the years that followed, I ran when I could and felt empty when I couldn't. I had lost control.
I switched to controlling friends, family, my job, my finances.... But in the end, they all controlled me instead. I turned to alcohol. I could control that.
I did for a while. Then alcohol controlled me. I couldn't stop. I passed out and blacked out and threw up. I felt sick and shook when I didn't drink, so I needed more to feel "normal."
This went on for several years. I wasn't myself anymore and controlled nothing, not even myself. I had to be treated for depression.
Earlier this year, I gave all my misery to God. I turned control of my life over to Him. My sadness became joy. I have been sober for only seven months, but the little voice in me that told me things would be different this time if I tried to drink has been silenced.
I'm a new person today. I let go and let God. What I tried to control controlled me. Now I take one step at a time. Those steps are walked, not run,
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