I Run With An Alcoholic Every Day
It’s been almost 90 days since I stopped but I’m still facing daily impulses and compulsions to drink. Normal people do not experience this shit.
I’ve started to feel good about myself again because of my recent weight loss and the first thing I think about is going on holiday to the Mediterranean to drink margaritas in shit British resorts. Drinking to escape the hangover I caused in the Wetherspoons at Gatwick or on the plane. Eating toasted cheese and ham sandwiches as it’s the only thing that doesn’t aggravate the ring sting.
I think back to Santa Cruz de Tenerife in November and drinking Sangria in bed with the curtains drawn. Listening to an audiobook of Ariel by Sylvia Plath. Drinking Sangria on the Solarium whilst listening to the Stone Roses and wanting to kick Ian Brown off my 9th floor balcony.
All whilst it was 30C outside. I know how to party.
The last 12 weeks of sobriety have been invaluable and I don’t want to lose what I’ve got, but I know what I am. I’m a fucking alcoholic and I have to live with these weird urges. There is no shame in this situation. I know what I’m up against.
The conflict inside of me only exists if I think beyond today. I AM going to go on holiday. But it won’t to be fucking Tenerife. I’m getting the ferry to somewhere in France and I’ll spend the weekend running and relaxing. That’s for another day.
I’m seriously worried about the ending of the London 2 Brighton run too as you’re offered a free glass of Champagne when you finish (this was one of the reasons I entered the race in 2014…).
I’m thinking of running in a t-shirt like this and telling the organisers not to give the dickhead wearing the silly cunt t-shirt any booze.
P.S. I ran my 11th consecutive half marathon today. It was good but largely plagued with alcoholic thoughts. Here’s the Strava shit for you.