I rode on the trainer Saturday morning, my wife by my side, huffing and puffing away, sweat splashing on the floor. It was a good ride – I’m farther along this year than I was last year at this time and I’m ready for spring – even if I’ll have to wait a month and a half for it to get here. Later in the day my wife, daughter and I played a couple of dice games, then we went to the furniture store and picked up Chinese from our favorite spot before we settled in to watch a movie.
Sunday, my wife and I rode the trainers again (it’s been incredibly cold) and had a nice day together. We played a few games of Qwixx and then settled in for the football game between KC & Cincinnati. Shortly after halftime I went outside to cook my chicken for the week’s lunches, then on to steaks for dinner. Our daughter was heading over to her boyfriend’s house and we headed to the bowling alley for an evening of great laughs and fellowship with friends.
And all of this on top of our experience Saturday afternoon/evening that I wrote about yesterday.
My friends, my life and the way I live it can be summed up very simply with one lesson I learned long ago in recovery. There is a straight line between me being happy and me drunk on a bar stool with the end result being me having given everything that is good in my life up, drunk and in the gutter. At some point along that line, I put glass to mouth and I’m lost. There is no space between that first drink and me drunk at the bar. Zero. That’s not where I lose, though. I actually choose to drink after I’ve lost the argument to the committee inside my head that thinks a drink would be a good idea. So that’s my point of no return, not losing the argument, though; having the argument in the first place.
I had to learn how to not allow the argument between the melon committee. And that’s how I win. At everything.
From my relationship with my wife and kids, to work, to play, to… everything. Though granted, I’m better at some things than others! The point is I can work that same concept with anything. On one side of the straight line is me, happy. On the other is me miserable. All I have to do is figure out where, along that line, I need to not let that one asshole in the melon committee who wants the cheap thrill to win and I can live a great, happy, peaceful and content life. That’s all I ever wanted when I quit drinking in the first place. Nothing grandiose, just good.
Recover hard, my friends. We only get one lap and we want to make it the best possible lap there is.