Wednesday, September 22, 2021

Doing hard things...

 On Sunday I completed my 11th overall, and first walking marathon, very slowly but surely. I was trained up to 22 miles, but that last 4.2 kicked my behind! And, one step at a time I carried on. It was pretty funny - I was literally the last person to finish, but because it was a small event, I also placed second in my age group (never mind that there were only two in said age group!).

There was a point, at about mile 20, when I questioned my ability to finish - I was struggling as my two friends pulled ahead. My feet hurt, my calves were tight, I was thirsty and I had to pee (TMI??). The "just stop" devil on one shoulder was getting louder, when the angel on my other said, "Oh good grief. You trained for this. Just keep going." And so I did, reminding myself that I've done hard things before and survived.

I've done hard things and survived. I've done hard physical things, and even harder emotional things, after thinking for years that I didn't have it in me. Walking through the doors of a treatment program and sending my car home with my sort-of-boyfriend was hard. Staying in treatment was even harder. A few years later, deciding not to stop and pick up that boyfriend when I passed him on the street was hard. Becoming financially self-supporting was hard. Going to college (and going and going) was hard. Running my first marathon and riding my bike in a century event (100 miles) was really hard.  Learning how to be a true friend was hard. Falling in and out of love was hard, as was opening myself up to the commitment of marriage. Walking through my mom's end of life was excruciatingly hard. Writing my novel was hard. Dealing with staff conflicts at work was hard. I could go on, and likely, so could you. Moving, break-ups, sharing at a speaker meeting, conversations with roommates about dirty dishes in the sink, getting out of bed to go to the gym, surgeries, financial insecurity - "we could increase the list ad infinitum."

What I've realized over the years is that I am far more capable than I initially gave myself credit for. All those corny sayings that the old timers threw down - Keep Coming Back, Suit Up and Show Up, Don't Drink Between Meetings (but come back even if you do) - laid the groundwork for being a person who could show up, who could come back, who could make coffee, clean ashtrays, welcome the newer newcomer. I learned by example that I could go another day, that I didn't need to pick up, even when my heart was breaking, that I could sit still for an hour (an hour and half in those days!) - all the big and little "life on life's terms" that seemed so daunting at first.

I suppose it was a matter of growing up. Adults, adults who live in integrity, do what they say they will do, and if it turns out they can't, they call ahead and say so. One day at a time, I either keep my commitments, or explain why I can't/won't/changed my mind.

Years ago, a therapist, who I really liked, questioned my commitment to AA, as in, "Maybe there is more to life." I had to laugh - how much more could there be? I have friends who are authors and poets, nurses and engineers, bus drivers and realtors. I've run a half marathon on the Great Wall of China, earned a couple of degrees and retired from a career I loved. I know that some people stop the whole meeting thing, and over the years that has waxed and waned for me, but overall, I think of the 12 Step programs as my base, my springboard. As I've said before, no one ever says, "Why do you still go to church?"  AA and Alanon work for me - my church. I learn from those ahead and those bringing up the rear. I am reminded of the universal truths and solid principles that guide our way of life. I laugh and learn and love with a pretty amazing group of people.

A hard thing on my plate right now is one of our 16 year old cats, just diagnosed with kidney disease. At this point, we're doing a diet change, and the vet will see him in 6 months. My hope is that the sweet guy doesn't suffer, and that we are strong enough to let him go at his right time, not ours. One day at a time, I can do hard things.

What are some of the hard things you are facing today? How does your own experience over the years of sobriety remind you of what you are capable of. Who are the trusted others you can go to for counsel or a listening ear when needed?

Happy, happy Autumnal Equinox to those of us in the northern hemisphere, and Vernal Equinox to those in the south. 

Reminder that if you'd like this sent to your email every week, or if you're interested in the workbook, "I've Been Sober a Long Time - Now What?" you will need to go to the WEB VERSION of www.soberlongtime.com for the links.

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