So I shit my pants in an Olive Garden one time. I was attempting to break the never ending pasta bowl record, which I believe was 14 bowls. I was around 17 and I am pretty sure it was the last time that I ever wore a pair of khakis. No, that isn't it. That isn't the story that I want to use to bring home my point. Let's try again.....
I recently received a message from a concerned friend regarding my particular alcohol consumption. Basically he believes that it is getting in the way of my goals. We haven't known each other for too long but I respect his opinion. Now most people that know me understand a few basic things about me. #1) I am strong for my size. #2) I am loquacious. #3) I have thrown up more alcohol in my life than most people have consumed. I like whiskey, Jameson to be precise and I'm not ashamed of that. I like it poured tall and on the rocks. When I drink.... I drink. I recall a time in the military when a good friend of mine named Allen (I am not changing his name because he is not in the least bit innocent) walked into our Georgia home with a handle of gin and proclaimed, "Hey Doc, we should drink this!" Now it was 9:30 on a Tuesday night and we both had to be up at 4:30am to make it to formation. So my question was a natural one. "ALL OF IT?? RIGHT NOW?!" Understand that I was not suggesting that we do that but Allen instantly thought this was a terrific idea. So, in the way that two great friends embark on a journey across the Appalachian trail, we set forth to conquer that jug of extra dry. This is one of the evenings that I experienced a great phenomenon that I refer to as "time traveling" That is when you move forward in time without any recollection or understanding of minutes, hours, and on rare occasion entire days.
The 6 mile formation run at 5:30 the next morning was less than enjoyable but that didn't matter because Allen and I accomplished the mission. We set out to do something and we did it. Yeah, it was dumb and it took us over five hours but we were focused and nothing was going to sway us. it was such a gratifying feeling to have accomplished our goal. Over the years I have conquered many goals. I have over 30 podium finishes across every distance in triathlon. I have owned my own business and worked some amazing jobs including being a fire fighter, marketing director, and salon receptionist. Seriously. I have first accents in two different countries and got banned for life from Notre Dame. I am constantly looking for the next challenge, the next adventure, the next chapter in my life's book.
Fast forward to the present day. I have made it a goal to qualify for the crossfit games. If you are unfamiliar it is a worldwide contest to see who the fittest man and woman on the planet are. What it truly is, comes down to who is the best at exercising. Now my aforementioned affinity for Irish whiskey may seem counter intuitive to such a quest since doing CrossFit with a hangover is not the preferred technique. Also the amount of money spent on booze each month could more than pay for better quality food, deep tissue therapy and fancy new shoes designed to make me stronger, faster and more bad ass than the guys in Southern California. Of course the main detrimental factor is the corrosive cellular nature of mass quantities of the sauce. It absolutely keeps our body from recovering from tough training by interfering with the bodies natural inflammation response and hydration levels.
This next part will be difficult for me for a number of reasons. First and foremost, this is not some life event that I have lived though and have contemplated and to some degree internally resolved. This is happening now, as I type this very moment. There are three bottles staring at me. They long for my embrace and I have an almost rapacious desire for what those bottles contain. That brings up the next point of contention, I may very well have a problem with alcohol. I haven't admitted that to anyone and in fact would laugh if someone else suggest that I did. As I am told that Hemingway did, I do my best composing while drinking. This brings up the third issue. You see, this is the very first time that I have sat to write any material for this project without some form of libation in hand. I'm not going to lie, that stuff makes me feel brilliant. It makes words effortless and it makes me uninhibited when recanting very painful memories. So if this particular rant is laking the typical LJ pizazz... well, I'm attempting it dry.
Let us sit around now and place blame on all circumstances. Let us arm those that can do us harm by allowing them to do us harm. Let us create excuses before our attempts so that our short comings will be expected and in turn easier to bare. Let's consume by the gallon the most toxic of substances so that we may implicate them in the court of our own demise. Let gluttony and sloth and greed immediately gratify us, for delaying that gratification is undoubtedly the path to greatness. Let our cup runnith over and our trips to the buffet be plentiful. If our objective is to know no greater glory than the release of dopamine than this is the light, the way. If, however, your aspirations extend beyond your nose perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea to pour that fucking bottle down the drain and reserve yourself for a more exalted existence.
We all have a person or a thing or a time in our lives that has delivered to us great pain and sorrow; the antagonist in our life's grand play. We must disarm them. We must take from them all the power they possess. The crux; as I drill deeper into my cognitions it becomes apparent that I am my own anathema.
So what now?
