8 Ways Recovery From Addiction Has Helped Me in Triathlon

and no… not being hungover is not one!

Last week I wrote an article titled, “7 Things Triathlon Taught That Life Couldn’t” and doing so brought up further introspection. The reason triathlon has been able to teach me things that life couldn’t is kind of two fold. Triathlon has a way of pushing me in a unique way. In a way that nothing in life ever has. All of the drive has to come from within, as a personal decision. The beauty of it is all the effort, support seeking, work, early mornings, planning, nutritional decisions and focus is entirely up to me. I don’t think anyone would complain if I said, “welp, I think I’m going to stop spending this much time and energy training for a race.” In this way, it is unlike sobriety, career, school, relationships or anything else I have ever done- including other sports

On the other hand, I would get some serious external recourse if I ever said, “well, I’m just going to get some heroin and go back,” or “I’m just kind of tired of putting in the work for our marriage to work.” These are things that have a direct effect on me and seriously impact a lot of other people in my family and the community in which I live. With that said, sobriety still has to be for yourself because if it isn’t then it is unlikely to stick. External motivators just simply aren’t enough motivation to keep a human being from doing what they think is best. Likewise, my marriage has to be a decision for myself. On a daily basis I have to make the decision to love and choose love over myself- because I know this decision is what is best for my life.

I’ll be honest, maybe where not to many are. But that’s what happens when you have a blog about every nook and cranny of your life like a gonzo journalist baring the intimate details of your own soul. Sometimes these decisions I speak of above are rather difficult. Sometimes I feel like giving up sobriety. Life gets hard and getting high sounds comfortable and easy. Sometimes I feel like running away from my marriage and family life. An argument arises, we say things we don’t mean, and I feel like I’m a madman for 10 minutes- or 10 days. Sometimes, I feel like giving up on triathlon and the tri-4-youthsobriety fundraiser, the reason I do this crazy sport, or three, in the first place.

I may have not ever learned some of the lessons I talk about in my previous article without triathlon. But the lessons I have learned from sobriety are essential to both triathlon, and life for without them I would have neither life nor sport. For instance, I could probably manage a life without a calendar and I surely wouldn’t have to pack my bag the night before, do laundry all day and clean gear constantly. But, without the next couple of items I most definitely wouldn’t be able to even consider enduring a sport like triathlon. Without learning the next 8 things, Trials to Triathlon would not exist and neither would the sweaty stink emanating from the bathroom where my wife reluctantly allows me to hang my spandex…

You can’t get very far without placing one step in front of the other, one step at a time, one day at a time

Sounds simple enough, but for me it took some getting used to.

When I took my first step into Hazelden Rehab Center in Center City, Minnesota my plan was to get clean off the drugs and by the time I left the center everything would fall into place, the way it should have been, the way it was before I started tearing it apart with drugs and alcohol. My son, who was at the time 2 years old, and ex-wife would be back in my life. I would get my job back. My social network would thrive and I would feel connected. My parents would trust me again.

I was mistaken. Shortly after leaving the rehab center, nothing had fallen into place. My son came to visit me at a sober living home and while he was napping I went to the liquor store- the beginning of another end and finding of another bottom for me. I go into more depth about this time of my life in the upcoming book, but for the sake of blog space parsimony lets just say a series of self-inflicted events led me back into heavy use of prescription drugs, marijuana and alcohol within a month of graduation from Hazelden.

Everything was not fixed. What I didn’t understand at the time was I had only taken one step out of Kathmandu toward the Everest summit whose ice-covered apex barely hung on the horizon from the distant land whence I stood to begin my journey. I didn’t understand the principal of one-step-at-a-time. I couldn’t fathom it. For so long I had taken one step and achieved everything I dreamed of. At first it was a pot. Ignite, inhale, lay back and listen to comfortably numb while soaking in the bath. Then it was LSD- tune in, tune out and watch the world breathe back to me and music hum from the trees. Then it was heroin. Inject, forget, become. Then the misery of alcohol. But I think the point is clear and I’ll spare you further grisely details.

Sure, I took steps to do things like graduate college. But each of those steps were clouded in a fog of substance too thick for a snake to navigate through. At some point I had to do something about the fog because I got to the point were no step was safe to set a foot on. I was flirting with death in everything I did. Hazelden had helped me clear the fog momentarily so that I could at least see the steps that would get me to the summit I dreamed about and aspired towards. Storms came back in, but the vision lingered. Eventually, I came back around to make another attempt at the great summit of sobriety- and this time I was willing to take it one step at a time.

I started slow. I kept life super simple, real quiet. I had a friend of two and barely associated with social media. I stopped looking for mates and love. I began reading daily and performing walking meditation around my neighborhood. For those who can’t meditate easily, I urge you not to give up, rather try various forms. Walking meditation is one of those I connected with. Start slow. Feel each step. Listen to the leaves that crunch underfoot. Feel your glutes tighten and your hamstring as it stretches. Feel your heel strike as it descends from the curling created when the ball of your foot lands on the path. It’s amazing. (Read here for Thich That Hanh’s guide). I also started doing really simple things like making my bed and tidying up, suggested by renowned coach Marie Kondo. Brushing my teeth slowly and mindfully. Making all my own food (instead of fast instant food). I tried to do anything and everything that would help me to become more mindful.

This mindful approach to life was the first step and it led me to the next step… I got a job in landscaping. Picking weeds and manicuring landscapes is a very mindful task. This job led me to meeting a woman, the woman of my dreams. This woman led me to decisions that would ultimately lead me to re-estabishing a relationship with my son and ex-wife. This woman would also inspire me to take on triathlon and use it to help people through the blog and tri-4-youthsobriety fundraiser.

It all came one step at a time. It all continues to come one step at a time. Simply nothing with lasting benefit enters my life in any other way than one step at a time. And it’s beautiful. Why? Well, when it’s one step at a time there is no worries. No reason to fret about what is around the corner. All I have to do is take this one step in front of me, hear the leaves, feel my glutes and hamstrings, appreciate the sounds of nature, and the next step will present itself. It’s beautiful because it becomes effortless. I think you can now see how this helps me to run long distance without pulling my eyeballs out in pain. (if you want to read more check out mindful running)

Following directions is a good idea

Some people may not have had a hard time with this one. I did. I am the person who will argue with a roadmap, and I have.

When I was 19 years old I woke up from an acid trip in Montana and decided to throw all my CD’s out and drive home to Atlanta in silence. Don’t ask why I threw my CD’s out. I had hundreds and began regretting the decision by the time I reached Texas. I finally gave in and bought a couple CD’s from a truck stop. This was shortly before I veered of course from the map I was following, a perfect image for why I had began driving back south in the first place. I was scared where my life was headed. I was failing college, lost my job, had a DUI and two posssession charges within a week. I had lost direction.

In life I had decided I could get to where I wanted to go and still party and ski all day. I was wrong. While sitting at that truck stop in texas I looked over the map. I could continue on Interstate 20 and arrive in Louisiana where I was meeting my family, on schedule. Or I could take this little detour, get off the mundane Interstate filled with stress and mean drivers and see some of Texas’s landscape, and still most likely get to my family in time. Why on earth I chose to take a scenic route through Texas landscape is forever a mystery to me. The experience did no good but serve as a very valuable metaphor later in life.

I ended up lost and a day behind schedule. My phone died and I had spent my last dollars on the CD’s I had purchased. Therefore, I couldn't purchase a phone charger. I had a gas card, but no food and no drink. It was miserable. I was lost. I felt destroyed. When you’re lost there is little you can do. Nothing seems right. I had gone far enough that turning around became pointless- I was 8 hours away from the Interstate I had left. The only thing left to do was continue on the path I had chosen, but this time while listening to the new directions.

The new directions took me through some strange small dusty towns, but they eventually got me to New Orleans. I didn’t veer off course again and ended up making it to my family and ate a huge dinner. But this lesson wasn’t enough for me to learn to follow directions. I may have been more likely to follow road maps, but I was equally resistant to any other life direction. In life, after all, I believed wholeheartedly that you can pave your own road where there isn’t one. I tried and tried and tried until I threw up my hands in defeat. I had been attempting to pave a road with no equipment, no map, no ingredients for the pavement, no help and absolutely no direction or knowledge about how to do so. Finally, by the time I was 31 I sought some help. If things aren’t working for your pavement- don’t waste time, I really don’t think it works to make a road out of the sticks and stones found laying in the woods, but by all means, be my guest. Maybe eventually you will have story like mine. But if that’s not what you want then stop arguing with the map and follow the directions.

When I was released from Hazelden they said, “go into sober living and develop a sober support system.” This isn’t necessary for all addicts/alcoholics. But it was for me. I know it was the right thing for me because when I veered off course I ended up not getting where I wanted to be, just like disregarding a map. I went into sober living, but I didn’t develop the sober support system. Rather I made friends who were touring around with Yonder Mountain String Band, had sex with anyone I could find and hung out with the guys at the restaurant where I worked and joked with them into the night while they sat around and smoked pot. I had sober living, but there was no sober support besides a piss cup every night. I ended up relapsing hard, to the point of near death and it took me two more years to finally follow directions.

When I did I got a job, found the woman of my dreams, my son came back into my life, I had new friends who cared about me and old ones who loved me dearly came back into my life. Everything started working out. Eventually the directions led to a little town called triathlon where I would once again have to navigate directions very closely, or run the risk of getting lost, injured and weary. Catch my drift?

Now I follow directions with my training and I have seen more gains than ever dreamed of. With the help of books like Joe Friel’s Your Best Triathlon: Advanced Training for Serious Triathletes and the esteemed Triathletes Training Bible I train more efficiently and with purpose. I also utilize the clear cut directions and help of Ireland’s Triathlon Coach of the year, Steven Moody who designs training plans for athletes. I put direction into my day with a precise calendar and I even put direction to each dollar I make with Financial Peace University.

The fact is plain as day. If I want to get somewhere, why not follow the directions to get there. I wanted success in sobriety, so I began following directions. I wanted success in triathlon, so I began following directions. I wanted to finally feel at peace in finances, so why not follow some directions. It worked.

Giving in is not Giving up

This lesson was no different in difficulty, but essential for me to learn before becoming an athlete in any capacity. The difference between giving in and giving up is something I never understood until I began my walk in sobriety. Giving in can mean a number of good things, giving up doesn’t. Giving in can provide a man with confidence and strength, giving up doesn't. Giving in creates humility and self-awareness, giving up creates self-loathing and regret. Closely tied to the last lesson giving in to sobriety meant admitting who I was, facing up to my weaknesses and then using some directions to build strength and become who I am now (ironically, the next lesson I will touch on).

I hear people a lot say, “I’m not going to admit I am an alcoholic because thats admitting a sickness and disease I can never get rid of.” Sure, thats fine. I chewed on that reed for long enough and kept choking. What finally happened to me when I admitted I was an alcoholic is the same thing that happened (and happens daily) when I admit I’m not a professional triathlete- I began to improve rather than hurt myself. It seems contrary, but it’s quite simple- Once I gave in, I no longer needed to keep giving up!

Now I use this mantra daily in almost all of my endeavors. I daily admit I’m an alcoholic- but that’s so I can become a better non-alcoholic and each day it works. I daily admit I don’t know everything about marriage, being a husband and being a father, and that helps me to become a better husband/father, daily. I constantly tell myself I’m not yet the best triathlete, and that helps me to grow into the athlete I dream of being. I now know that when I give in I am able to grow.

An example I love to use is the pain during a long bike ride. Somewhere around 50 to 80 miles always comes a phantom knife somewhere deep within my thigh muscle. I have tried many times to take my mind elsewhere. I have dreamed of waterfalls in Kauai. I have imagined the fish tacos I’m going to consume after the ride. I have placed myself on the bed, feet propped up watching office reruns on netflix. Nothing has seemed to work for me until I learned how to give in. When I give in to the pain and concentrate on it I am able to work through it. I literally go directly in my head to thinking only about the knife ripping my muscle open. It hurts- but then it begins to go away!

I also use this in arguments. Okay, so this might not be for everyone- but I like it. Early in sobriety I heard, “would you rather be right or be happy?” So, I decided to do a little experiment based on this saying. See, my goal was/is to walk around with a sense of peace, serenity and ultimately happiness. But, when I got/get into arguments this goal fades quicker than a fart in the wind on a motorcycle. I have the ability to not give in to another opinion until I am blue in my face and forced to leave the situation giving up entirely on my goal for peace, serenity and happiness. But when I do give in, I don’t have to give up on my goal. In other words I can give in and still achieve what I truly want: peace, serenity and happiness. Ultimately, I have found that I getting others to believe my opinion just doesn’t add up to the joy that comes from peace. In addition, I often end up learning something new too. But, like I said, this may not be for everyone- a lot of people may have opinions that are actually right all the time…. But, I’m not that lucky, so this works for me, every time I apply it.

Work with a weakness until it turns into a strength; never run from it

I’m not going to lie, at this point I rejoice when I find a weakness. In other words, I’m rejoicing quite frequently. I’ve learned that only so much joy can come from riding out a strength. Meanwhile, a new level of elation surfaces when a weakness is improved, tailored and transformed into an asset from an ailment. I can’t stress this enough- weakness is not something to run from, it’s something to run with all the more!

Early on in sobriety I had a real problem with anxiety. For years, I had been diagnosed with and struggled with what is known as generalized anxiety disorder with chronic depression. How does this look? Well, my head felt like it was the size of a volzkswagen when I went into public and my heart beat so loud I could hear it through my throat. My hands would tingle and sweat would soak every fiber of my shirt. I either had to leave or be on copious amount of Xanax, an anxiety medication that literally numbs everything. But on the other side of the coin, in solitude, I felt like the walls of my house were closing in on me and I was suffocating. I would sit in my loneliness and think of the world without me in it. I would imagine my parents being happier. I imagined my son being less confused. I imagined my future employers relieved. These thoughts would fill me with so much anxiety it would force me to either drink and use until I passed out by myself or go into the public I feared so greatly and do things that would help me forget. This was a serious weakness and one that hurt to the very core when I tried to strengthen to the surrounding muscles.

Many times my anxiety and depression kept me from achieving sobriety. It was just too hard, I was too weak and I couldn’t breathe. Oh the hell, oh the misery this existence was. Writing this makes me cringe. It makes me cringe because I lived this way not knowing there was a way out. It makes me cringe because there are hundreds of thousands out there in the same vicious prescription cycle, keeping them trapped from unlocking their true potential. But the doctor said I would always be that way. The truth was, I wanted to be that way and until I wanted something different I was going to listen to the doctors telling me my weaknesses could never become strengths.

How did I get out of this prison? Well, it’s simple and it’s why this point is 4th down the list, in the place where it is. I had to learn to take things one step at a time. I actually remember the first couple of days taking life one breath at a time. I couldn’t think of steps, I couldn’t think of direction. I had to literally break it down to each breath and each moment. Once I started becoming aware of my bodies ability to breath and feel itself I was able to begin walking through life. I began listening to the leaves crunch under each foot step. I began hearing the sliding doors of the grocery story and the wind whipping through my hair pushing me into a place I once couldn’t walk into without a blood alcohol content that would make a vampire sick. I remember standing under the pouring rain and feeling each drop echo through my senses. I stood there crying because it was the first time I had appreciated the rain since I could remember. I rode the ski lift alone and closed my eyes. I listened to the gears grind as it boosted me up the great mountain side. Each snowflake hit my face bursting like music notes against the walls of a recording studio.

Then I began following directions and gave in instead of taking a pill and giving up. I did things that I never dreamed I would do, like write out all my fears and past harms and share them with the world in this blog (I don’t recommend doing this- this was just my path.) I then continued to follow directions to get where I wanted to be and began stepping out of myself to try and help others. This was hard to do, I had never done it before. I was too anxious and felt too self deprecating to help others. But now, this has become my greatest strength, my passion and my life’s focus. There is nothing that can peel me away from what I used to think was my greatest weakness.

Without learning this I would have never continued swimming after nearly drowning in a wetsuit in a freezing cold lake during my first triathlon. When this happened I found a weakness and now swimming may be my strongest suit in the triathlon card deck. I followed direction from books like Mastering Swimming and youtube clips galore and practiced, practiced, practiced. I would never be running 6:30 min/miles (when I started running last year 8:30 min/mile was basically a sprint). When I started running I had achilles tendonitis and plantar fasciitis. But now running is becoming a strength because I began listening to advice in books like Mindful Running for the mental game and A Runners Guide To Yoga for running strength and flexibility. I also found books like Finding Ultra for additional inspiration in triathlon. This last book leads me to my next point.

You don’t have to live with who you believe you are. You can live with who you dream to be

This is a huge one and a hard one for many people. Addicts are not alone here, we all have beliefs about ourselves that occasionally limit our abilities and capacity for growth. I personally had many beliefs that had to be quashed in order for me to live sober and begin experiencing this thing called life. But it didn’t stop with sobriety. Sobriety brought on new beliefs that also had to be quashed in order for me to become the father I needed to be, the husband I needed to be, the friend, the son, the brother and the neighbor I needed to be. It’s only through this navigation of self-defeating beliefs that I am now able to stomp out the little fiery serpents as they arise during training and races.

Ask anyone who is involved in endurance sports. The first three miles of a run are the hardest. Why is that? For myself it’s because it takes me three miles to finally transcend the beliefs and thoughts that are holding me back. I tell myself over and over- “God how I am ever going to get through 10 miles.” “How on earth am I going to do this on race day, I’m going to fail and resort to walking.” Ah it’s so annoying. But after three miles I sit back in my skin and begin experiencing achievements.

At the beginning of every run my heart rate beeps at me as it climbs. It also tells me the pace I’m in. Getting that heart rate up to where it is supposed to be can be excruciating and this happens during the the first three miles. Once I’m there my watch starts saying things like “fastest mile,” “New Vo2 Threshold,” and my favorite “improved performance.” The only way to get to this little achievements is by battling through the beliefs that held me back. The ones that made it hard to get out of bed. The ones that make me dread every run.

These same type of beliefs were there early in sobriety and I hear them all the time from people inquisitive about sobriety. “How am I supposed to be sober forever?!” “I won’t be a good friend sober,” “I can’t dance sober,” “how is fishing going to be fun?” (it’s not for me btw… but it wasn’t while drunk either.) These are beliefs that need to the destroyed. I had those same beliefs and kept ending up drunk. But then one day it clicked.

I started to say things like- “I dream of being there for people when they need me.” I always feared getting a phone call from my mom, dad, brother or sister explaining an emergency situation or death bed experience. I feared this because I knew I would most likely be faded to the point I couldn’t be there for my loved ones. So I decided to do things that ensured I would be there for others when they need me. Now, I’m there for emergencies, but I’m also there for my wife if she just needs a shoulder to cry on. I’m there for a friend if they want to learn how to run. I’m there for my son when he has growing pains in the middle of the night. God it feels amazing to be woken up in the middle of the night and ready to help a little boy who needs your hugs and reassurance. With a tear in my eye I have to admit it beats any drunken night on the town or being high as kite in the woods or concert. I wouldn’t trade being the person I dream with the one I once believed I was for anything.

It takes time, but its possible for anyone to achieve. As I write about in “How I make Old Beliefs Lead Through New Doors” All that I needed to do was to listen to others advice. I had a bike instructor tell me while I was pushing my threshold, “even professionals feel the pain you are feeling right now, but they don’t let it tell them they can’t.” I was struck and a new energy surged. All things all of a sudden became possible. I dreamed big and pushed it through my first Vo2 session riding the boney shoulders of brutal and agony all the way to the other side. It was amazing. But, I only knew it was possible because a little old man told me one day something very similar, “no matter how much sobriety you have we all are one drink away from being drunk.” I realized then that I could make it. All I had to do was dream and walk towards that dream and stop believing that I couldn’t.

When you can’t keep going, you can

I think there are less stars in the sky than how many times I thought I wouldn’t be able to make it through the next hour. I would lay there with my heart feeling as if it was going to beat right out of my ribcage and launch itself to the ceiling leaving a bloody mess for my family to find. All I had to do was pick up the phone and talk to the walgreens pharmacist and I would have my bottle of Xanax. Within 30 minutes I would be smooth sailing and free from the pain that was holding me strapped to my bed tighter than a hotel bed sheet. 10 minutes in this state felt like a century and many times I questioned if I needed to continue to ride it out. I have never experienced more pain and doubt anything on the face of this earth can cause more agony than the withdrawals from an addiction to a freedom of a hell unrivaled. I’m not talking about the physical pain that hurt, feels like lightening on fire coursing through every vein. I’m talking about the deep gut wrenching suicidal I’d rather be burned alive type of insidious spiritual pain. The one of endless loneliness and despair. The one of absolute bankruptcy and filled with complete abandon. I thought many times I couldn’t keep going.

Time and time again however, I came out the other side. My shoulders may have been smoking from the flames I had been laying on, but my body was not a smoldering heap of ashes crinkling and losing shape while drowning in a pool of liquor. I was walking and talking and drinking coffee. Soon I began laughing and hanging out with other people. It was amazing. I began realizing that if I put myself through things that were difficult I could do things that I never imagined.

For instance, walking into a grocery store… Or praying and admitting my weaknesses… or making amends to people that I hurt badly… Or praying for the people who hurt me so badly as a child… I think of these things when a run gets hard. I think of the time I couldn’t lift my head up out of bed and with tears in my eyes rolled around in my sweaty sheets with restless legs that felt like banjo strings waiting for the energy to make breakfast. I remember this passing because when I can’t keep going, I know that I can.

Nothing good comes from comparing yourself to others

I’m guilty. I did this. I sat in the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous and said, “well this guy can be sober because he has three house, a bank account that doesn’t know what the color red looks like and gets to go out to eat where ever he wants.” I sat there and let this destroy me and ruin my little dinner of noodles and butter. Time and time again I would say things like this to myself.

Another way I compared myself to others was with thoughts like this, “this person didn’t have it nearly as bad as I did, they were never molested, they probably never even had an F in school.” Woe was me, my life was worse and this kept me from ever growing into the man I wanted to be.

This is very hard in triathlon. A lot of people have a lot of money. Some have closets full of running shoes, swim gear, multiple $10,000 bikes, and trophies to all the events they flew planes to and took off time from work for. This isn’t me. I have one speedo, one little beginner road bike, one pair of running shoes (at a time), a hand me down wetsuit that doesn’t fit and has rips in the arms pretty much rendering it useless against the cold water on my core, and absolutely no money to fly anywhere for any sort of race. But, I still do it. The only reason I can is because I learned this lesson early on in recovery. Comparing yourself to others holds you back. It’s really quite simple. End Note.

Fear is okay, unless it keeps you from facing it

Now we get to the nit and grit of this article, but I’m warning you- it’s fairly anticlimactic. Fear is something that we all experience. It is something that is natural and beneficial to promote our survival in a dog-eat-dog world. But when it keeps you from facing it then it all of a sudden becomes unhealthy. Allow me to expatiate.

Before sobriety I ran from fear with every thing I had. If I began feeling the least bit of discomforting fear, I would pop a pill, slam a beer, toke a doobie and be done with the fear. I ran and I ran. Every morning I woke up and immediately, before swinging my feet out of the bed, toked on my pipe and popped a xanax. I then would take a shower with my believed “shower beer” and mosey on my way towards my liquor laced coffee and amphetamine tablets for energy. This running from fear basically led me into a vicious cycle that nearly ended my life on a multitude of occasions. It left me hopeless, it left me friendless, it left me suicidal. The fear itself was okay, but it was there so that I would step up and face it, not run away from it.

Okay, if we see a lion we might need to run. But after we get away we need to build a weapon that will help protect us in the future, right? The fact became true for me because at some point I was no longer able to keep running from the lion that had chased me and my downfall had been I had no tools in my repertoire to kill the beast. I hope this blog can help others see that it’s possible not to take things as far as I did. It’s possible to see a fear, prepare for it and stomp the lion like it were a sickly little kitten (that was grim, sorry… don’t go stomping sick kittens).

Fear in triathlon is an amazing experience. I have learned to love it. But it took facing it, day in and day out with repetition, constantly sharpening my tools and building my defenses. I feared swimming, I feared elements of biking, and I feared the pain of running. All of these things have taken a ton of work to face, but it has all been worth it.

And now a word of reflection

The ways in which sobriety has helped me with triathlon and the ways triathlon has helped me in life are indispensable lessons that will always stick with me. I’ll be forever grateful for the program of Alcoholics Anonymous and triathlon for helping me get to where I am today. I must note, not everyone needs a program like alcoholics anonymous and surely not everyone needs triathlon- but I needed both to teach me some things about myself I otherwise wouldn’t know. I now take these things out into the world and share them with great joy with other people so that maybe they will never need to know the program of alcoholics anonymous. I share them so people can find hope in whatever situation they are in. I share them to help them find ways that they may be able to maximize the life they are living. I share because it’s my heart, it’s my purpose and it’s me living my dream.