Day 756
If I could do this by myself, I would. That does not intend any disrespect to the new friends I've made in recovery; it's just who I am. Or maybe that's who my addict is; I can no longer find a reason to argue about the difference between the me of recovery and the me that remains an addict.
As something of an athlete most of my life, I often default to sports analogies to help explain my circumstances and solutions. However, I don't think I've ever thought about Cross Country in terms of applying any lessons to my life. It's a great sport that has given some people wonderful accomplishments and growth, or at least that's what the names on the trophies proclaim. For me, it didn't help that I hated running, but it seemed a good way to get in shape for basketball, so I did it. I was never fast enough to win, so the greatest pleasure I ever got from my trots through the hills and greens of the local parks was the time spent in the solitude of my aching limbs and burning lungs. Cross Country is a team sport, but I remember nothing of personal pleasure derived from how we did as a group. For me, it was all about the guys that finished first or second — that, and getting in shape for hoops. I was content in the isolation I crafted for myself. Even then, even there. That's how I survived the daily practices and a dozen meets.
In basketball, there were games when I could dominate the floor, but I always needed someone to throw the ball in-bounds, or into the post, or rebound my random misses and put them in the basket. It's funny how time can turn a 37% career shooting mark into domination and random misses. Even with the improved skills born of storytelling, the tallest of tales still involve the memories of the other guys' contributions and the coaches' encouragements and the team managers handing out water bottles of support during timeouts.
I can appreciate re-living similar memories of the football, baseball, softball, and soccer teams of my younger years. As much as I looked forward to the long walks home by myself after practices and games, it was the time I spent with my teammates that produced the best and most productive experiences of those years.
But the truth remains, if it were not for the rules of the games, my isolationist ego would have been even happier scoring all the points, gaining all the yards, and hitting all the hits by myself; it just isn't possible.
Recovery is a team sport.
–JR
Oh Lessons learned, man they sure run deep
They don't go away and they don't come cheap
Oh there's no way around it
Cause this world turns
On lessons learned
–Tracy Lawrence, “Lessons Learned”
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