night and day

When I was actively drinking I hurt. Mentally and physically. I was always in some state of breakdown. Be it emotionally or my body failing me. I had severe plantar fasciitis, I couldn't walk up the stairs without losing my breath, and just generally felt like garbage. I hit snooze 5 times a morning, and when I finally woke up, I had to drag myself out and drink a whole pot of coffee to be somewhat functional. I would eat fast food at least 4 times a week, sometimes twice a day. When you are drunk and hungover, double cheeseburgers are your saving grace. I smoked up to two packs of cigarettes while I was in a binge. 

I didn't have insurance, so I never went to the doctor. Until it got so unbearable that I was having severe liver and kidney pain and wound up in the ER. You know those questions they ask you in triage, do you smoke, how often, how much do you drink. I always lied. I only drank 1-2 times a week (HA) and just 2-3 drinks (HAHA). That doctor saw through all my bull shit and called me out. Bad. He told me very bluntly that if I didn't get my drinking under control, I would be dead. 

I still didn't stop.

It would take me almost a whole year to actually quit, and that was because of a drastic intervention with a semi truck and the law. 
I went from daily general aches and pain and almost dying to, healthy if you will. My meds for my rapid cycle bipolar actually work. I don't have these weird red patches I used to. My body doesn't hurt constantly. 
On Sunday I will run my first half marathon. I will traverse 13.1 miles on my own two feet. At 7:40 in the morning. On a Sunday. I would have never even considered this while I was drinking, for a multitude of reasons. I could barely run a mile without dying, Sunday mornings were for being hung over, and a friggen half marathon, HA, NO. 

A friend asked me "How do you even run that long?" My answer was "Harry Potter. And thinking about Beyonce super pregnant in a body suit and heels dancing. And people who can't walk. And sheer determination. " Here is the thing, I hate running. I however love and am blown away by the fact that my body and mind are capable of it. Because I know that from the ages of 19-30 that would never have been possible. I was rotting away from the inside. I was slowly killing myself.  

It didn't all occur at once of course, I didn't wake up one day and run 10 miles. I ran a mile, then 2, then a 5k. And I hope Sunday allows me to cross a half marathon off my list. 

Your life can change. If you work at it. It is a choice you have to make every day.

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