We talked about running a marathon
and how many miles we would have to run each day to do that. We dreamed of
riding our bicycles across America and we fantasized about how great our legs
would look after we made it over the Rockies. We imagined hiking the
Appalachian Trail and spent hours discussing and dreaming what that would be
like.
I was fat and those dreams seemed so
impossible and yet I wanted the life that they represented. I spent the next
thirty years getting fatter. I picked up addictions to alcohol and cigarettes
to go with my obsession with food. I was profoundly unhappy. I didn’t even
think about the marathon, the bicycle trip, or the Appalachian Trail. I had
forgotten myself and therefore, I had forgotten my dreams.
Then one morning, I woke up and I
couldn’t remember going to bed the night before. I said to myself, “This is not
the life that I was born to live.” That day, I quit smoking, I quit drinking,
and I started to eat mindfully. I got out of bed and instead of having my
morning cigarette, I went for a walk.
I started to walk every morning.
Eight months later, that morning walk turned into a jog. Two years later, I ran
the Columbus marathon with my friends Linda C and Patty H. At the time, I
thought that running the marathon was a celebration of my sobriety and the
amazing life transition that I had negotiated and it was all that; yet it was
something more. As I crossed the finish line, I thought of those summer days
with Cherie and I felt a soft ping in my heart.
I wanted the marathon to be enough. I
had quit smoking, given up beer, lost 100 pounds, and run a marathon. Really,
wasn’t that enough self-improvement? Hadn’t I earned the right to kick back and
coast?
That’s the funny thing about Life.
Once you experience being present to your own life, once you taste the
sensuality of being present in your own body, the joy of living your authentic
self; kicking back on the couch just doesn’t have the same appeal.
So this summer, I rode my bicycle
across America. It was an amazing adventure and I learned so much about cycling
and about how to be a better human being. I shared that adventure in this blog
and you can look back through the entries and see some of the things I learned
along the way.
Next on the list is hike the
Appalachian Trail. I cannot begin to tell you how little I know about hiking. I
know nothing about hiking, I currently have none of the necessary skills or
equipment and yet I KNOW that I am going to do this.
Which brings me to my point: YOU
DON’T HAVE TO KNOW HOW TO DO SOMETHING TO GET STARTED DOING IT, YOU JUST HAVE
TO DO SOMETHING.
Accomplishing the biggest feats
begins with taking the smallest step. My life turned from insanity to sobriety
because instead of just promising myself that I would never do this again (I
had tried to quit many, many times before), I got out of bed and went for a
walk. I couldn’t look at the big picture (being sober for life), that was too
overwhelming, but I could go for
a walk. I went for that walk and while I was walking, I let the walking show me
what to do next.
When we were in Rochester, MN on the
bike ride across America, I broke down in tears at breakfast. My mentor Sam
asked me what was wrong. “I’m so tired Sam. We have come so far and yet we have
so much farther to go. I just don’t think I can do it”, I sobbed. “Can you just
ride today’s ride?” he asked. I shook my head, no, today’s ride was too much.
“Can you just put your luggage on the truck?” he asked. “Yes”, I nodded, I
could do that. After I put the luggage on the truck Sam said, “Can you ride a
mile with me?” Yes, I could do that; and so the day went.
So what is your marathon? What is
your ride across America? What is your leap into sobriety? What are you waiting
for? What is the small thing you can do now that will put you in the flow of
your best life?
The Appalachian Trail lies ahead of
me. It is an enormous adventure and the biggest thing I have ever attempted. So
what am I doing today? Today, I am going for a walk. I am going to walk 3 miles
on the treadmill at a 3% inlcine wearing a backpack loaded with 6 lbs of hand
weights. It’s not a huge thing to do and I’m not entirely certain that it’s the
“right” thing to do, but it’s something to do. I know that at some point
while I am walking, the next step will come to me and it will just feel right.
It may not come during today’s walk or even tomorrow’s walk, but I know for
certain it will come.
How do you do something big? You
start by doing something small. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go for a
walk!
