500 Days Without Booze
Resentment is building against the population.
Slept terribly in my last night in Brighton because of some 24 hour party people who thought it would be funny to knock on my hotel door at 4am. Becoming less liberal with age. Should be allowed to blast these fuckers out with a fire extinguisher.
Brighton perhaps isn’t the place to relax. Somewhere like Eastbourne or that place in Yorkshire where they film Last Of The Summer Wine would be more appropriate. I’m a grumpy old fuck.
I’ve put off my run to quite late tonight. My eating today hasn’t been a complete disaster so I think I should make it around without shitting myself. My aim this week is a good solid 100k+ to build on last week.
I know I have the potential to do a 50k right now. It’s just I’m a lazy bastard. I need to stop being lazy before it’s too late and I fuck up yet another ultra.
500 days without a drink if I make it to midnight.
I’m not craving booze thankfully. In Brighton it didn’t really cross my mind. Sure, I looked at the beer pumps and studied the ABV to see if there were any nuclear ales on tap, but that was habitual more than anything.
If I only live once then it’s my duty to live as freely as I can. Alcohol does not bring freedom. It’s all about slavery to the cravings, the routine, the obsessions, all of the fucking ‘social’ situations where you’re expected to imbibe.
I grew up around alcoholics. I took my first drink by accident before I was 10. One of my aunts had foolishly left a coke and spirits mix on her table and I fucking downed some of it thinking it was coke.
It tasted disgusting and I hated how alcohol effected people. I swore to myself then that I’d never become a drunk because I hated drunks, but guess what happened?
I remember wishing that there was more sober people in my family other than my sisters. That’s Belfast booze culture for you and it fucking sucks.
That’s why I hate this fucking national glorification of alcoholism that comes with being Irish. As if it’s somehow a positive label. You’re rightly labelled a politically incorrect buffoon if you lambast the French for riding donkeys and eating croissants but it’s still not really taboo to talk about the Irish and Guinness.
Rub my sack for some free lucky charms
I want to be sober and I can only do that on a day to day basis. Life’s better this way. I’m more authentically me. Shit isn’t perfect. I felt so horrible this morning after not sleeping. I didn’t have the energy to walk up to the train station. People were tutting at me to try to make me speed up so they could pass me.
I didn’t say a word to anyone. I was absorbed into a shitty cocoon of self hate and inner loathing.
Wanted to break out of it for the life of me but couldn’t. Until I got in home and then shit got better.