Arrow of Time (feat Michael Kang) - 2LOT

Here's a true story that might resonate at this time of year, written by a German chap, simply called Ron...

My Second life…

Twenty-one years ago today, I was running a 65km Ultramarathon from Offenburg to Baden-Baden in Germany and at the time I was 38 years old.

 

It was a week on from my last horrible, and as usual disastrous, booze session. A date I will never forget as my father died on 4^th December. It had been in the same pub where I’d started my drinking career more than 20 years earlier - the one where my father had ‘taught’ me how to drink when I was about fifteen. I’d been so drunk that night I lost my wallet containing 2000€ and slept rough in minus temperatures before being picked up in the morning by the Police.

Over the years, my drinking had been so heavy and frequent, that I wasn’t far away from being homeless. I was, and still am, a Professional gambler, living on my own without rules. It was a free and fun lifestyle but due to my heavy drinking, my financial situation was diminishing. So, to save money, I bought a motorhome, which was also provided a convenient place to collapse in when I was drunk but also transported me to running races.

Somehow, I was still able to run Marathons and Ultra-Marathons such as the 80km Swiss Alpine and even two Ironmans. I was a binge-drinker having heavy sessions which could last up to three weeks being drunk every day and then have long sober breaks in between of up to three months. At my lowest point, I drank in shady bars and with homeless people in the park.

A week after my last season, I still felt hungover, yet I decided to drive to Offenburg to run with a group of people for my sixth ultra of the year. I still don’t understand how I was able doing that over so many years despite drinking so heavily. Although it wasn’t a usual kind of event as most of the participants had problems with alcohol, drugs, relationships, or mental issues despite being able to run 65km and as a group running together.

I ran alongside a runner from Great Britain who jogged along at a very economical pace. Every 10kms there was a break for food and water, where we started chatting. His name was Rory Coleman a record-breaking runner, who’d had similar drinking issues to mine. We talked for the rest of the run sharing our life-stories.

When we arrived in Baden-Baden during the Christmas Market it was snowing. Most of the runners, including myself, had tears in their eyes (like I do now, writing this article). And in that moment, it became clear to me that I would never touch a drop of alcohol again. In a moment my fifteen years of fighting alcohol was over, and I’ve never looked back since. Up until then I’d always thought of quitting, but never had the mindset.

Since then, I’ve never had the urge to drink again.

That day changed my live completely. I disconnected from my drinking friends (including my drunk parents) and stopped squandering my money in bars. And although Rory and I have never met since in person, those few hours together changed my life. Today I received a congratulatory email marking twenty-one years of sobriety. Rory sends me one every 11th of December that says, ‘Well Done Ron’.

I now live a life of awareness, meditation, spirituality and Buddhism. I enjoy family-time with my young daughter still in my motorhome with two cats, a laptop and a small e-piano for company. My mission is to save people who are struggling with alcohol and depression, so I can repay my debt to Rory - the one person that helped me, and that can help you if you are struggling like I was back in 2004.

1,231 Marathons - 290 Ultras - 18 MDS - 10 GWR - 31 Years' of Sobriety 

Enjoy the Silence - Depeche Mode

Just how noisy it can be...

Sometimes it’s good just to sit still and take in the silence. Ask yourself - when was the last time you weren’t caught up I the white noise of a busy life? Probably a long, long time ago, so long ago, you can’t even remember. Like me the stresses of health, wealth and relationships mean that we are constantly spinning to live a life we believe will make us, and those around us happy.

 

But does it? As often we hear ‘all I want is a quiet life’… Hmm, now I don’t think I want a quiet life. I enjoy noise. I’m a noisy person yet - I do enjoy solitude. The ability to decompress in my own space. That’s probably why I enjoy running so much. And it could be the reason why so many people are finding ultramarathons so good for the state of their mental health.

 

Personally, I’d find meditation difficult due to how my mind works but I’ve found I can be mildly dissociative in certain situations, such as during the World’s Deepest Marathon where my senses were challenged by the lack of mental and visual stimulation, meaning I could disconnect from the situation and have the feelings of being somewhere else. Deep in my mind – not the mine!

 

Don’t ask me where that was – it just wasn’t there - it was in the silence of my own thoughts. It might sound a bit strange but if you’ve experienced the same feelings, which can be overwhelming I add, I’d love to know, and in the meantime, try to turn down the volume on your life and enjoy the silence for once.

1,231 Marathons - 290 Ultras - 10 GWR - 18 MDS - 0 dB

Days - Television

When people talk about time, they often measure it in milestones, birthdays, relationships, jobs, etc. But there is a quieter kind of milestone, one that doesn’t get confetti or congratulations - the moment you realise you’ve now lived as many days sober as you once lived in the noise, chaos and haze of alcohol addiction.

Yes, today is my 50:50 day – 11656:11656. Birth to 5^th January 1994 and from then to now. 

But being sober for half of my life is not just a numerical split, it’s a division of two selves, two ways of living, and two different understandings of what it means to be alive. 

And having lived this way for so long now, the life and achievements that I’ve gone on to accumulate only underline just how good-a-decision I made some 11656 days ago. You see, for many people, sobriety starts as a single, urgent decision, often made following a massive drunken blow out yet for me, I just felt toxic and hated myself. I quit because I wanted to feel ‘alive’ and not waste my time living from one drunken day to another in a bid to survive my depressed and broken world.

The best part is how quickly the sober days accumulate, and then how they seem to multiply. Sobriety was soon a month, then six months, in fact, a year went by very quickly as I remember and those early milestones were monumental. 

Sobriety became less something I achieved, and more the way I lived.

Looking back addiction isn’t a moral failing it’s a way of coping when life stops working. And sobriety isn’t perfection; it’s a choice to live differently when things are out of control. Those years spent drinking weren’t wasted, they taught me what it feels like to be lost, and what it takes to become found.

And if I live a further 11,656 of sobriety I’ll be 95, not a bad innings I’d say, and hopefully further adventures and achievements await - something that would never have existed in the haze and daze of my distant past.

Game on.

1,230 Marathons - 290 Ultras - 18 MDS - 10 GWR - 11,656 Days