now what?

I've often found the events that have moved me the most are the things, when sat in front of a keyboard, I have the least to say about.

Perhaps it's because I realise the futility of trying to express so many feelings with my somewhat limited vocabulary, or perhaps it's because I don't want to somehow do an injustice to the occasion, but not for the first time I find myself somewhat wordless regarding my little run last week.

I guess for so many people, running a marathon is a personal thing. I passed (and was passed by) many people with photos of loved ones on the back - 'for mum', 'for dad', 'for whoever'. There's clearly something about that special event that brings out the non-running runner in people. Full of determined amateur and first-timers, a story of hope could be found in every pair of trainers.

My teeshirt would have said, somewhat predictably, 'For Me', because it was ... for me (excuse my arrogance). A full stop at the end of another chapter of dogged self-improvement. An achievement that I never thought about, let alone thought possible, before I entered those hallowed doors of AA.

This isn't the first time I've penned this, nor will it be the last but I say again ... Recovery is a weird thing. It takes you to places you never dreamed of. Some frightening, some beautiful, some challenging, but most of the time, always incredible.

After spending four days on the best natural high, last Friday I landed with a bump again ...

One question overhung like no other. 'What next?'

My reason for existing had just been taken away and I realised that unless I set myself another target pretty damn quick, I would end up staying still. And I hate staying still.

So, early indications are that I need to try to find out what my problem is in my legs/muscles/back and should I come up with a fix for that, to keep on running. My next marathon is penciled in for September in the New Forest. This time, no blogs, no drama, no sponsorship, no fretting. Now I know I can do it, I should just do it, as Nike would have me say.

Then ... well, 2009 .. I fancy the New York marathon and I've just found out that next years London Marathon is on my birthday. It would be a shame to miss that.

So that's it then. No more blogs about running for you. (muffled cheers)... I did it. I went from my first run outside in March 2007 to a Marathon in April 2008. I'm proud of that.

What's next? My latest obsession is creating music again ... not proper music ... but godawful banging psy-trance music, like I used to 'compose' when I was younger. It's good to be able to go back to that time without the drugs-induced flashbacks, neausia and mild shaking from 'europhic recall'. I found in my earlier years of recovery, that type of music became too much for me to listen to. Anyway, that's probably another entry in it's own right. For now, I've found something else to occupy the space where thinking used to occur - and it's great to have a creative outlet again, no matter what that is.

Whatever it is that I do next, it'll probably become a minor obsession, another mental battle against myself, full of self-defeating thoughts and fears and all that comes with it. Until such a point where I am happy with my progress - a happiness that will then last for a few days.

Repeat until death.

Next!

-----------------------

To finish off my blogging series on the bloody marathon, I would like to thank ...

Ryan Spencer: Ultra-marathon runner who took me under his wing. Organised 'long runs' for me and supported me in lots of ways. A good friend now and someone who I hope to be running with a lot more. Never gave up on me.

Kirsty Green: Watford jogger who dragged me around when I was at my lowest. Her emails of support gave me the final push to run this year when I was going to give up.

Simon Collyer: For his alternative therapy work. My body was as good as it could have been on the day and I know he helped

'Q' - my Personal Trainer - Another pain giver. This guy really goes the extra distance for me. Really, really nice bloke.

Lory Laskey - Sports Therapist: For all the great advice, and especially for the 2.5 hours massage the day before the race.

Phil Edwards - Psysio (ex- Watford F.C.): Introduced me to new levels of pain, but helped to patch me up enough to get around on the day.

Everyone who sponsored me: We've raised over £3,000 for Spinal Research.

John Scott: For supporting me through the training and offering sponsorship from the company.

... and everyone who txted, emailed or came to see me ... i was overwhelmed with messages !

and finally ...

Claire: For putting up with 4 months of moaning and fretting - you're the best.x

not beaten by the stick

So.

On Friday I went to the Marathon 'expo', which is where you get your timing chip and sign your life away before walking around the exhibition and seeing the variety of 'stuff' on display. The experience was uplifting, lots to see, lots to feel. But, as I know already, it would be marred by the pain in my legs and back, reminding me that it was going to be a hellish run.

After a period of milling, I spotted a sign that said, 'back pain? injury? muscular problems?' etc ... I fitted that description perfectly and walked over.

I ended up speaking to a Finnish chap who asked me what the problem was. I described bad back pain either side of my spine and a sciatic pain that I'd tried just about everything.

In a heartbeat, he said ... 'tight hamstrings pulling on the back muscles - sit down'. So I did. And he produced a stick. Well, not 'a' stick, he produced 'The Stick'.

I perched on the end of a chair, bum on the edge and he held one end in each hand and started to roll it under my right hamstring, from the top of my arse to underside of my knee.

I shuddered and lept up from the chair ...

"Jesus ... i've only just started, bearly touched it. You have the tightest ... ", he started. He looked thoughtful and looked away.

"Yes ...", he continued, "..."

"... the tightest hamstrings I've come across since being in the UK".

He clearly meant it.

And with that we started the painful work of rolling out the muscles ... he pressed his knee down on top on my leg and pull hard on the Stick and he rolled ... this was deeeeeep, tear-inducing 'massage' but my god, it felt good ... in the pleasure/pain kind of way.

With one leg finished, he told me to walk around.

I did.

OMG!

"Dude, do the other leg for me and I'll buy one right now"

I didn't ask the price. The relief I felt within moments was priceless.

...

Two days later, I completed the London Marathon in 4:34.

It wasn't fast, it wasn't pretty, but it was one hell of day and I'll never forget it.

The day itself warrants an entry of its own.

As do the countless thanks I owe to those I am in debt to for getting me here.

Amazing. Amazing. Amazing.

I'm still tearful.

...

So, just tight hamstrings after all that moaning?

I doubt it.

At the moment, it hurts to walk up or down stairs from the marathon, but once that is settled and I get some proper rest, I'll have more of an idea what is going on and what i'm left with. But one thing I do know, is the relief that bloody stick provided me with was enough for me to get through those 26.2 miles.

I just wish I found it months ago.

Next time ... next time ... armed with my stick, that 4 hour marathon is mine.

New York sounds pretty interesting ...

a bad back at the back

A decision has been made.

I'm going to 'run'.

'Run', however, may not be the operative word but 'I'm going to jog/walk' doesn't quite sound right. But that's exactly what I'm going to do.

Although, in my eyes, my best will not be good enough, I'm going to do it anyway and jog/walk/crawl 26.2 miles and remember that it's for charity and not for my ego. Something I lost sight of in the tantrums of my ongoing injury.

I am in a lot of pain, yes. And probably I shouldn't actually go out on Sunday. But, well, in the scheme of things, it's 5 hours of uncomfortableness in return for the honour of saying that I took part in one of the worlds greatest sporting events. From where I came from, that is a bloody miracle.

So ... that's it. I'm going to compete in The London Marathon 2008. And that's more than that bloody dropout Paula Radcliffe can say.

If that means running a time of 5 or 6 hours, so be it. I will be in the good company of other people who are doing the best they can.

Pain is temporary.
Quitting is forever.

50/50

The good news is that I've raised nearly £1,500 pounds - which the company is going to double. £3,000 is a lot of money.

Now the bad news.

I've got just six days to go until The London Marathon and I've just returned from one of the worst runs I've ever had. A meagre 7.5 miles full of back pain, leg pulls, stopping, swearing and frustration.

I've got no idea if I'll make the starting line. Recently, I've managed 22 mile training runs, 20 milers, 2 x 17 milers - one of which was last weekend ... but today, well, I couldn't manage 10.

It's the way it is with this recurrent injury. We've tried everything, but I think the only thing that's going to put it right, is no running for 3 months and core stability work.

So ... as it stands I might still pull out. If next Sunday I am as bad as I am today, I won't run. I'd rather defer to next year.

It's quite possibly the most frustrating thing I've faced.

We'll see I guess ... I'd say it's 50/50 at the moment ...

... any takers ?

cured?

'A' wrote:

Hey I wonder too...you know as well as I that no addict is ever "cured." People with long sobriety lengths go out all the time. Even sober I am always aware of the fact that my alcoholism is active somewhere in my life--I don't mean this in a challenging way at all. I would just really like to hear your take on how you are treating your addiction these days. I know you are for the most part away from the rooms...that's cool if it suits you. But as to your mindset...do you feel "cured" or are you sublimating in terms of work or marathon running? Do you really feel addiction is something you will never have to deal with again and if so, why? I'm thinking of a friend of mine who came back to A.A. when he was ten years sober. He'd gotten sober in the rooms then drifted out. He stayed sober but kept effing up his life in other ways...now he is 19 yrs. sober and has those other issues at bay.

-----------

Hey 'A' ... thought I'd give this a post of it's own, as you raise some questions I've been thinking about myself and it's something to talk about rather than running. Even though I will mention running.

A few times.

First of all, I'm not sure what 'cured' it ... is 5 years without a drink 'cured'? I dunno. I swing wildly on this - the Big Book talks about, in fact it's whole purpose is to 'recover from alcoholism' and therefore, by the Big Book definition, we are 'recovered' - once we get 'a power in our lives greater than ourselves' that relives us of the mental obsession to drink.

Although this is not a popular view in AA, I do believe I am cured, or rather, I have 'recovered' from the mental obsession to take a drink. However, on the flipside, I don't believe I can drink like a 'normal' person again and should I 'pick up', it would only be a matter of months before I was in a terrible mess again - therefore, you could argue that I am not cured.

So I guess the answer is 'yes, I believe I am cured of the obsession that makes me want to drink but if I do take a drink I would be 'uncured''

That's about the best I can do.

Regarding living with the 'addict' on a daily basis, I've been in meetings where I hear 'with all this running and keep fit, you are just swapping one addiction for another'. This normally comes from some fat bastard who drinks 12 cups of coffee a day, interrupts the flow of the meeting twice whilst he shuffles out for a cigarette and breaks into a sweat on the way back to his chair to open another packet of biscuits.

If I'm gonna be an incurable addict, I'll simple choose the healthy addictions. We do have options. There are plenty of things to get addicted to, that won't bleed your bank balance, your social skills, your drivers license and your will to live.

Take scuba diving. I went from 'never dived before' to Rescue Diver in a year and a half. Which isn't that quick if I were a UK diver, but every dive I ever did was on a liveaboard boat in the Red Sea and I clocked over 110 dives in those warm waters.

And now running. 18 months ago, I could run 2.5k. I ran outside for the first time 12 months ago. Not content with a 10k, a half marathon or just 'keeping fit', it's no surprise that I've entered one of the toughest challenges an amature runner can enter.

I guess I could say the same about work. Despite all the personal troubles, failing, depression and slides, the obsessive addict inside me would never let go of problems at work until I fixed them and that same obsession earned me my directors position.

All these things - keeping fit, 'extreme sports', work - could be described by some as 'addictions' ... I wonder what I will do when this marathon is over. I predict a massive high followed by a crushing low. Until the Next Big Thing.

"I'm thinking of a friend of mine who came back to A.A. when he was ten years sober. He'd gotten sober in the rooms then drifted out. He stayed sober but kept effing up his life in other ways"

I'm sure I can 'eff up' my life in lots of ways. Relationships are good for that. Generally speaking, the more relationships I have, the more intertwined with other people I am, the more painful things can become.

I am a lot more careful today. I have a great partner and we have a good understanding. She is very patient with me. She knows how to leave me alone and how to be close. She rarely drinks - that is very important to me. She doesn't smother me and yet I always feel her close by. Relationships are probably the most dangerous thing in the world in terms of 'effing things up' and being able to keep a 'sober' head on. I am far from perfect on this, but I am doing OK.

I am still a hugely selfish and self obsessed guy. In a way, I have to be. I 'treat my alcoholism' by doing what I want to do, when I want to do it. I keep my routine, I use fitness 'highs' as a release and I go to places I want to go to and stay out of situations that I don't want to be in. Saying 'No' comes pretty naturally now. I feel under no social pressure to do anything that I do want to do anymore. I am what and who I am and if that doesn't fit into your model of what 'being social' is about, then that's fine - I outta here anyway.

I try, wherever possible, to keep things simple in my life today - I've had plenty of opportunities to make it more complicated but I've been about long enough to have an early warning system built in nowadays - when I hear that alarm bell ringing, most of the time I take notice.

I absolutely love getting older. The combination of the natural slowing down of the thinking and yearning, the losing of the need to 'keep up' with 'the kids' and the wisdom that sobriety and maturity brings means that each year gets better for me. God, I wouldn't want to go through my 20's again for love nor money.

I do realise that I am just in a fairly good space right now - I've organised things 'just so' ... a good job/position, solid relationship, I'm happy where I live (I have my own space) and I have a challenging focus (marathon).

*but*

I realise that one day soon, I'm going to wake up and everything will have moved.

The company might fold, the girlfriend might leave, the house might burn down, the doctors might give me 5 weeks to live.

Life doesn't stay still. Shit happens. And shit moves very, very fast in my world sometimes. I've been to many places, to hell and to heaven in the last five years and find myself a million miles away from where I was only 18 months ago, let alone 5 years.

What I have to deal with in the next five years, I cannot say. I am hugely aware that I still am no closer to real commitment - kids, marriage or such like ... i'm still playing the kid, focused on big-boy trivial pursuits, video games and keeping safe from feeling too many real emotions.

My addict behaviour will be with me always. And I'm glad. It makes me run 26 miles, it makes me see Jimmy Eat World 3 times in as many weeks, it makes me scuba dive for three weeks on the trot, it won't let me rest until I've cracked a problem at work, it won't let me take a sick day for 5 years ... it is who I am.

Rather than making a demon of your addict, make a friend of it.

Feed it good things. Watch it grow and help you grow. Learn to love it. After all, if we 'cannot be cured', why not embrace it?

Every shadow has a light side. Even the most crippling depression is there to bring about change for the better.

Your addict can help you in many ways ... without mine, I would be practically normal.

And who, amongst us, wants to be bloody normal?

a grand don't come for free

Just a quick midweek blog to say a huge "Thanks" to everyone who has sponsored me so far. I busted through the thousand pound mark today ...

Although I haven't been able to run this week, I've been doing some crosstraining, stretching and I had a good (but bloody painful) session with my physiotherapist today, who doesn't seem overly concerned about my latest injury - he says the actual back itself is getting better - it's 'just' muscles tightening etc ... so i'm hoping to be out for a 20 miles slow run on Sunday ... keep those positive thoughts coming my way - they seem to be working.

Thanks again for the money, it's good to know that we've raised enough for my entry place - and the charity, Spinal Research, have said if the worst comes to the worst and I'm injured on the day that they will give me a place next year.

Not that any of us want to go through all this again, right ?

www.justgiving.com/spencersteel

6 weeks to go ...

Just trying to keep a weekly update, regardless.

As I write this, I'm very sad again as something has gone horrible wrong in the back/upper legs area ... it's too tedious to go over, I'm boring everyone to tears, I know. .. but just as things were back on track and I completed a 17 mile run last weekend, I find myself yet again, with my head in my hands and facing the fact that I will have to pull out of this marathon.

But the weekend has had highs. I took someone up to Bristol to see Jimmy Eat World, where we stayed in a lovely hotel (only marred by drunken girls shouting in the corridors at 1:30am - more karma repaid) and took a visit to the zoo today. Were it not for the pain pill sickness and the heavy clouds brewing around my mood, it would have been a fantastic weekend. The lead singer of Jimmy Eat World even gave me a vocal acknowledge on the microphone! Ah, heroes ...

... but back here in my room on a Sunday night, I feel the those storm clouds growing stronger. A 20 miles training run looms heavy and as it stands I cannot even stay on my feet for longer than 30 mins without having to sit down ...

God knows.