Drinking Diaries: I am an Athletic Alcoholic

I am an Athletic Alcoholic, or an Alcoholic Athlete. Oxymoron? no, just moron. ha ha

Does the alcohol fuel the exercise or does the exercise allow the alcohol? Well, both. Exercise was a way to repent for the drinking. Staying up late consuming alcohol meant getting up early sweating that fluid out. Drop for drop, more alcohol meant more sweat, less alcohol graced me with less “force”, but still some suffering needed to happen, the body would pay for my sins.

Sometimes it was the other way around. I did three workouts today (ran, plus 2 yoga classes) so I deserve, am allowed, entitled to reward myself with a cold one (“one” ha ha, one what? dozen?, maybe). As I slept (attempted to sleep) the empty calories pooled up waiting for the flood gates to release. I would wake up hot, panicked, wild-eyed and fueled by last nights surplus that felt like it would take me across a Marathon Finish line in record time. The fuel of empty calories (meaning, calories coming from Sweet & Sour and Tequila) didn’t carry much endurance. Soon after my impressive start my legs would slow. Then the internal, abusive drill sergeant would start her rant. ” You need to at least run an hour!” “You are going to run every day this weeK, you are going to do yoga twice today, you aren’t going to drink again this week, you are disgusting”. “Rip Roar’n Drunk” meant “Rip (out of bed), Roar’n (yelling at myself) Workout (scrambling to do something to feel worthy)”.

I learned how to reward myself with alcohol from my mom. She was a janitor, she hated cleaning, she worked hard, she came home and drank as a reward for suffering.

The ruts run deep for me. I wanted to hurt. I would push myself in a workout or job(waiting tables, double shifts, 2-3 days in a row) with a premeditated, totally JUSTIFIED, well earned reward of alcohol waiting for me. I will do this, it will suck, then I get this, it will feel good. Motivation.

I learned it. I am a good learner.

Buuuuuttt, the cycle kept feeding itself. Reward time arrived, I would partake, I would consume with great vigor, Hell, I deserve THIS. (Now scroll up (reread) what happened next. ) Go to the part that says, “As I slept, the empty calories would pool up….. and BAM wake up in a panic and here we go again, and again, and again. What came first the alcohol or the exercise? the chicken or the egg?Fast forward to today.

I don’t run anymore, I jog. And I jog when I want to. I do yoga because it feels great. I eat when I am hungry. I sleep like a fucking rock. I wake up and say “OHHH MYYY GOOOOODDDDD THIS IS going to be an amazing DAYYYYYYY”. If you are still reading and you know what I am talking about, please comment. If you don’t understand, You don’t have this issue. If you feel like I am putting up a mirror, there is a way off the rollercoaster (the highs and lows, the up and down). You don’t have to ride that thing anymore.