Leaning on the Program.
The program of Alcoholics Anonymous is rooted in earlier concepts used by the Oxford Groups, and before them the Masons. And I’m sure that the basic concepts – honesty, self-investigation, personal responsibility – are as old as humanity. The process of getting sober is about recognizing why we drink, what it does for us, and how we need to repair the imbalances it’s created in our lives. Staying sober is about being honest, humble, contrite, and hardworking.
But in more modern times, there’s a lot of analysis of the program that places it into the “cognitive behavioral” school of psychotherapy. It was one of the earliest organizations of “group therapy”. Though, one without a leader or trained facilitator. Functionally, recovering alcoholics look at our feelings, how they influence our behavior, and deploy strategies for calming or quelling the fears and anxieties before the result in disruptive, destructive behaviors.
And that process isn’t just for alcoholism. When there are shocks to my systems, disturbances, turbulence, I can rely on the tools I learned in the program to quench the fires before they rage our of control. And that’s what I’m doing now.
In sobriety, I have dealt with divorce, with deaths of family members, with career uncertainty, with changing jobs and cities, with personal injuries. With the suicides of several friends in the program. I’ve also coped with triumph and joy and excitement, which is often as dangerous to alcoholics as the miserable shit we go through. In the past week I’ve been by turns horrified and terrified, slightly relieved, only to be horrified again.
I’ve reached out for mental health counseling. And that’s a good thing. but I also need to remember that I have tools I’ve spent years cultivating. I know how to sit with my feelings, process them, let them wash through me and then move forward through them again. I am no good to anyone if I am not able to take care of myself. Some people feed and thrive on dedicating themselves to conflict. That’s fine if it’s what drives you. I used to do that. But I cannot any more.
My need is to be calm and peaceful, so that I can then dedicate myself to advocating for what I believe from a place of serenity and wholeness.
The Last Long Run.
Well, this weekend, BB and I ran a 10 miler at about a 9:55 pace. A good, mezzo-tempo long run in the final weekend before the Philadelphia Marathon. I’d be lying if I said I felt up to it. I know my body is fit. But emotionally, I’m in a deep doldrums. I spent the weekend in DC with BB and that was good. But I need to find a way to shake off my depression. I’m definitely in a low place.
So I called my old shrink and asked her to call me back. I need to connect and talk through some of this. Hopefully that will be meaningful. I know that finishing the marathon will be meaningful too. Right now that seems an even more daunting task than it ordinarily does. I need to get my head in the right space.
Sunday we did a minimal workout. Well, I did. BB worked pretty hard. I’m looking forward to finishing the running season, and then resting for a while. But I need to get my diet and head together. I’ve not eaten a great deal, and had some stress-related GI issues. Finding a way to get myself back into marathon metabolic condition will be critical. I have six days.
So what’s next? I’m not entirely sure. But I’m going to be moving forward one way or another. Because that’s the only way to go. Time marches on.
Taking Action.
What’s next? What do we do now? I’m not talking about trying to win the next elections. That will matter, but not yet. First we have two years in which we must protect our national institutions from assault. And protect our neighbors from, well, our other neighbors. What can we do?
I wrote yesterday that the time will come when we with privilege and means need to step forward and make some sacrifices. Financial, personal. Yesterday I gave $510 to impoverished classrooms around the state that I live in, through Donors Choose. A person I know set up monthly recurring donations to the Southern Poverty Law Center.
The ACLU is appealing for donations. They will be fighting the imposition of anti-constitutional, and anti-civil rights actions tooth and nail. Despite the fact that the ACLU is a charity, donations to the ACLU are not tax-deductible so I don’t know what that means.
Do what you can. Don’t be silent. Don’t be meek. And don’t be stingy. Make donations. Help those in need. Protect our freedoms. And protect the vulnerable. I know many of my readers are recovering drunks with little means and few dollars to spare. That’s ok. I also know many of my readers are people with wealth and privilege. That’s ok too. Do what you can.
I am doing what I can. I generally think it’s gauche to “brag” about charity. But don’t be silent about this. Show the world that the response to hate is love. The response to eroding freedoms is vigilance. The response to fear is courage. The response to shame is pride. The response to disgust is tolerance.
And the response to defeat is rise bloodied from our knees resolute to fight again for what we may lose. If I have a tooth left to bite with, the fight isn’t over.
Love Didn’t Die.
But hate is stronger than I thought. And it is not going to be ok. For at least two years, the GOP will have unfettered control of the government, headed by a man willing to do despicable things to enact an agenda that is driven by the worst kind of bigotry and sleaze. It is not ok.
Already recriminations. It was third party voters or it was the failure of white women to vote for a white woman in great enough numbers. I don’t subscribe to this. The blame – or credit – for an election goes to the people who voted for the winner. Whatever happens from here, I will not blame those who supposedly didn’t do enough. This belongs to those who did too much.
Hate swept my nation yesterday. Hate and rage and fear and paranoia. And it won the day. But it cannot win me. And it cannot win anyone who chooses to look at others and see people rather than barbarians. To look for the humanity in our friends, our neighbors, and even our enemies.
I will not hate you. Not if you are an immigrant. Not if you are a Muslim. Not if you are a woman. Not if you are black. Not if you are Jewish. Not even if you are a white nationalist. I cannot be made to hate. But I am so sad in the face of hate. I find the ideas that took hold yesterday as the day drained away into a horrifying night to be utterly reprehensible. Utterly vile. And I will not appease them.
Love didn’t die. I see brave people staggering, bewildered, this morning. I see my friends’ faces ashen and tear streaked. And I know that their anguish stems from their horror. Because we all believe, rooted in bedrock, that love is real. But hate has triumphed today.
Those of us with love to give and means to spare will be called upon in the coming years to make sacrifices on the part of love, to support those that our government will abandon. To welcome those our government will shun. To protect those our government will persecute. We will need to show our love with acts and with dollars.
Prove it with me. Prove that love didn’t die.
Building During the Taper.
I voted. It was a new experience for me, because it was my first time voting in ECC. I had to figure out an electronic voting machine. I don’t like them. Much prefer the old punch-card ballots. But I voted, and I voted hard. As I wrote before, the GOP has lost me forever, and I voted against every GOP candidate, and took positions on each ballot measure that I could in opposition to what I believe the GOP position to be. Now we wait. There were long lines at my polling place, and at others I passed on my way to work. But with no frame of reference to previous elections, I don’t know if turnout was big or small.
Yesterday I had arguably the best training run of my season. It was 55 degrees, a little breezy, and sunny. I went out with a bottle of water and a power bar. And I ran 10 miles in 1:27:32. If you don’t feel like doing the math, that’s an 8:45 pace. My fastest mile was my last: 8:22. Slowest was the first, at 9:01. But I had about a 10 second pause in that one for a traffic stop.
This is only the second time in my life I’ve run this far this fast. The first was my 10 mile race, at the Cherry Blossom festival in DC in April. When I was the fittest I’ve ever been. I ran that one in 1:25:23. So this was about two minutes slower, which is a lot if you’re a professional, and not much if you’re me. I’m really proud of this run, and in general of my decision and commitment to do the 10-mile tempo run as part of my training this year. This was my 5th of the cycle. And my fastest.
Even though I’m in the taper now, with less than two weeks until the race, that’s no reason to slack. Tapering doesn’t mean sitting on your ass. The reduction in mileage (especially the long run) helps make sure your legs are fresh on race day. But with a three week taper, like I’m doing, you can easily lose fitness if you just take “taper” to mean “rest”. At least, I will. So to maintain, even though I’m doing less mileage, I need to do some hard work.
That means harder gym days, faster short runs, and for me, this time, the ten-mile tempo run. Running fast (fast for me, anyway) for 10 straight miles is an exercise in pain (pun not intended but foreseen – couldn’t think of another word). Any pace that starts with an “8” is fast for me. My quads burn, my heart rate – even at 55 degrees – ticks into the 170s. My hamstrings scream and my glutes revolt. My lower back engages, my feet pound the pavement. Everything hurts.
But going out and throwing down everything I’ve got on a training run? Finishing 10 miles in under 90 minutes? That is worth the pain. That’s how I train to finish 26.2. That’s how I stay fit for the things I want to do in life. That’s how I stave off diabetes. That’s how I maintain my health and drive for my partner. That’s how I accomplish my goals. Pain, failure, rage. And then trying again. Until I hit the mark I didn’t even know I was shooting for.
Turn the corner. Sometimes the finish line is right there.
Fast Finish.
Well it’s almost over. The marathon is in less than two weeks. This weekend I ran 15 miles with BB, and we did it at a good clip. Our overall pace was 10:12, which is very fast for me for a run longer than 13 miles. Considering my half marathon PR is a 9:08 pace, I can probably run faster for 15 miles than we did, but the real point was to get a bit of a pace on for the 15, push just a touch, so we’d be ready to run a little faster than our ordinary long run on race day.
The really happy part of Saturday’s run was that we ran a significant negative split (meaning, the second half was faster than the first half). And our last mile was a hard push at at 8:39 pace. Sub-9 minute miles are hard no matter how far I’m running. To do one at mile 15 feels very strong. Our last four or five miles were all below 10 minutes per mile.
So, while I have to keep up my mileage between now and next Sunday, I feel ready and fit for the marathon. The only problem I can foresee now is if we have to run through an apocalyptic wasteland because Trump has somehow won the election.
This election has been the most anxiety provoking of my life. I’ve usually had a clear preference in presidential politics, but I’ve never feared that one of the candidates would try to change or dispose of the constitution, and was a danger to the republic. Donald Trump is a horrifying catastrophe, and has already done great harm to the United States.
So the finish, tomorrow, cannot come soon enough. The choice is between sober, if dull and incremental, governance, and wild, lawless revenge fantasies. It’s got to end, and end badly, for Trump. A stampede to the polls to humiliate him. And everything he’s vomited into the public discourse.
“Boys Will Be Boys.”
I haven’t delved deeply into the Harvard Soccer scandal. The basic allegations are that members of the men’s team produced (at least once, probably annually) a document which speculates pruriently on the women’s team recruits. The press is having a great time detailing the specifics of the copy from 2012 which has been uncovered, but I think it’s in basic poor taste to rehash it all. It is exactly what you might expect a group of 18-22 year old boys would write about a group of 18-22 year old women.
You know what? This is “boys being boys”. And this is actual “locker room talk*” (though, writing it down takes it into another, darker, realm). Boys around the world objectify women, view them as sex objects, and jockey with other boys about what they’d do, or what they’d say they’d do, if they ever caught one. Boys are like that. We’re all like that. Very nearly every heterosexual boy has engaged in this kind of thing. I have. All of the men who are currently pretending to be horrified that this document exists and was produced have done it too.
But let’s be clear about “boys being boys” and “locker room talk”. Just because these things are common, that does not make them acceptable. When people say “boys will be boys” they tend to say it as an excuse meaning, “this is common, understandable, and normal behavior which – while potentially harmful and mildly destructive – can be overlooked.” And I’m sorry but that’s bullshit.
There is a reason that I’m saying “boys” and not “men”. We don’t say, “men will be men”. This is juvenile behavior. Boys are horrible. When we are boys we are destructive, entitled, rapacious, self-absorbed, cruel, and domineering. We need to be taught that these things are not acceptable. And the teaching needs to be serious, heavy-handed, and unequivocal. Because sadly, too many of us never learn or internalize that these are unacceptable behaviors, and never change.
Boys do these kinds of thing. And every generation will need to be taught anew – that’s how development works. We need to take the opportunities we find to confront boys when they behave like this, and correct them, in order to help them develop into men. Men don’t do this kind of thing. Men treat women with dignity and respect, because they have been taught to recognize women as independent humans and not just as sex organs.
There are places for ribald, men-only jocularity even among men (rather than boys). In my AA men’s meeting, we vent about the women in our lives, often using humor, when we need to. But then, immediately thereafter, we begin talking about how to approach our difficulties with them as grown adults who respect the women who’ve chosen to be part of our lives. And when boys show up and don’t recognize that dynamic, we fix it, by teaching them.
So I’m happy that Harvard has now chosen to cancel the remainder of the men’s soccer season. Because it is apparent to me that Harvard didn’t have a men’s soccer team. They had a boy’s team. And that group of boys needs a harsh lesson before they can take the field as men.
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*What Trump said on that tape was not “locker room talk”. It was a recording of him confessing to serial sexual assault. As I understand it, the Harvard document was explicit, prurient, and pornographic. But it was not a description of past sexual assaults, nor a detailed manual on how to commit future ones.
How the GOP Lost Me Forever.
When I was younger, I was religious and conservative. I was a reliable GOP voter from the first election I could vote in: 1992’s presidential race. I proudly cast my absentee ballot for George HW Bush, and then again four years later for Bob Dole. I voted for GOP senators, congressmen, and state representatives. I voted twice for George W Bush.
I always had trouble with some of the GOP’s social platforms. Despite being religious and conservative, I never cared about the gay marriage issue much. It seemed to me that as long as my church wasn’t being forced to conduct gay marriages, the government had a responsibility to be neutral. But the issue also wasn’t high on my list.
As a teenager and young adult, I was pro-life, and that mattered a bit to me. But as time went on I started thinking that, if it wasn’t my child, it wasn’t my business. And while I still wish there were some way to consider paternal interests in the matter of abortion, I can’t figure one out. Biology isn’t fair, so the law shouldn’t pretend that potential fathers have the same rights as potential mothers. It’s complex, and I don’t have the answers.
But I was squarely in the GOP camp on issues of economics and taxes. I was opposed to affirmative action, favoring instead policies that would make it one day unnecessary. I tended to favor corporate interests over environmental ones, because I saw them as human interests: if the corporations can’t prosper, they won’t hire people.
I generally agreed with the idea that the government should have less power, and that local governments were better at representing the interests of their constituents compared with larger, broader governmental entities. I hoped to see federal power diminished, and regulation decreased. The GOP – while far from perfect – was better on those issues than the Democrats were.
Things began to change. As I became more sophisticated in my own thinking, and I was influenced by some thoughtful democrats, I began to see the GOP’s social policies as being very big-government. Deciding who can marry, who can receive what type of healthcare. Not only were they wrong on these issues, they were hypocritical – standing opposed to their own nominal platform of limited government.
Cracks began to show in their economic policies too: global climate change is going to be a disaster for world economies, food security, and migration. A conservative party should be preparing assiduously for these things, to mitigate the effects – and if they cannot be prevented, to plan carefully for how to manage them. But the GOP instead has its fingers in its ears, pretending against all evidence that it’s not happening.
But even then, one of the major issues I cared (and still care) about was the American military. A famous old quote I’ve always loved is: “No institution in the history of the world has done more to advance the cause of peace in its time than the United States Marine Corps.” I believe that. The Pax Americana that has now lasted some 70 years has, despite well-publicized military actions in many places, been one of the most peaceful times in human history. A human being has never been less likely to be killed in or by international belligerence. Ever.
But now, the GOP has nominated a man for president that seems to think that the US military – the greatest engine for world security ever assembled – should abandon its commitments to our allies, conduct his personal vendettas, and commit acts of unconscionable war crime. He has mused horrifyingly about the first-strike use of nuclear weapons absent any reasonable cause for their deployment.
In nominating Trump, the GOP has abandoned its pretense at morality. It has disgraced its claim at being the party of limited government. It has shed its costume of geopolitical prudence and restraint. It has demonstrated that it has no concept of protecting American interests at home or abroad. It has shown it is contemptuous of the very founding documents that conservatives cherish. And it has precipitously flirted with demolishing the greatest achievement any nation can aspire to: centuries of peaceful transition of power.
Even for all that, I might still have been tempted to vote GOP in down-ballot events because I believe that functionally, a divided government requires compromise and negotiation. But the GOP has plainly stated that their only negotiation tactics are refusal, and filibuster. They are not a political party in any sense of the word: politics is the practice of advancing a coherent agenda.
And so, like millions in Generation X, I am formally abandoning the GOP forever. They are unfit to serve in any capacity. They have abrogated all responsibility to the safety, security, and nourishment of the American people. They have collapsed into frenzied throng of hate and fear, lashing out not only at the stability of the country, but at basic human decency.
There is no redemption to be had here. The party must be excused from service.
“Codependency” and Recovery.
An article came out in which the author argues that “codependency” – as understood in programs like Al-Anon – doesn’t exist, and “treating” it harms addicts rather than helping them. Far from helping addicts reach a “rock bottom”, she argues, we should be treating addiction with compassion and evidence-based practices. There’s a lot to unpack about how she’s wrong, but I’m not actually going to dispute her point about helping or harming addicts.
Because, and I mean this sincerely, fuck the addict. We addicts will recover or not, and you can’t control it. We will “hit bottom” or not, and you can’t control it. Examining codependency as it relates to the recovery of the addict is, itself, a symptom of codependency. Al-Anon (and I am not a member) is not focused on helping addicts. It is not about the addict. At all.
The author makes a good point that codependency is hard to define. Especially from a scientific or medical point of view. So let’s back up and use simple words that ought to make sense to everyone. The term “codependency” as it is relevant to the discussion here, can be replaced with “having your life wrapped up and intertwined with the life of an addict”. That’s all. That’s the whole deal.
Now, sometimes this means that people, because they love the addicted person, or feel responsible for them, persist in relationships that harm them. Not that harm the addict (maybe that too, but so what). That harm themselves. They might be legitimately unable to extricate themselves from this relationship – for example being the parent of an addicted minor dependent.
The purpose of treating “codependency” is not to make the addict recover. We addicts like to make everything about ourselves. The purpose of treating “codependency” is to provide support to the people whose lives are wrapped up in and intertwined with the life of the addict. It is to provide support that hopefully mitigates the harm we addicts do in the lives of those around us.
So the article is wrong, because it’s focused on the wrong subject. The author argues against people getting support for themselves, because it might not help the addict the way she imagines they must want to. I say again: fuck the addict. The goal of treating “codependency” is to help YOU. Not to help the addict in your life. It’s to help people whose perspectives on healthy relationships have been twisted by an addict’s gaslighting, lies, broken promises, irresponsibility, and unfaithfulness.
The concept of “helping us to the bottom” is sometimes advocated in Al-Anon, but that is not the point. When the non-addicts in our lives try to get help to get us sober, they’re still acting out of a misplaced investment in the behavior of the addict. We cannot be controlled in that way. The only way to control a drunk is jail, institution, or death.
So, yes, codependency is a weird, loaded, unscientific, and often unhelpful term; about that she’s quite right. But what we call “treating codependency” is really simply “helping people harmed by addicts”. Not helping the addict. The addict is beside the point. If you have an active addict in your life, you have the right to get help that is entirely for, and about, you. And has nothing to do whatsoever with them.
Long Run Brain.
Well, we did it. BB and I did our longest training run of the season, a 21 mile jaunt through Rock Creek Park in the Maryland suburbs of Washington DC. I didn’t pause our time for street crossings or pee breaks or anything, and we ended up at an 11:11 pace, which would make for a marathon time of 4:53. Take out a few minutes for pauses we won’t have to make during the race, and maybe we break 4:50.
I’m proud of the way I adapted my training to make up for the deficits early in the season. Saturday’s run was at a good pace for the distance we traveled, and it was 10 minutes faster than last year’s 21 miler, before the Marine Corps Marathon. So that bodes well. If we run Philadelphia a little faster than that, I’ll be very pleased. As always, my goal is to finish. But I’d like to be faster too.
So BB and I were discussing it, and for our April marathon, in upstate Pennsylvania, we’re going to try to do our training long runs at about a 10:30 pace, to build fitness for a faster marathon. 10:30 per mile works out to about a 4:40 marathon, which is a totally respectable time. Maybe someday I’ll break 10 minutes per mile in the marathon. Maybe not. For now, looking too far ahead feels foolish.
Right now, I’m in the taper. Three weeks of slowly dialing back the effort so that I’ll be fresh and uninjured on race day. Marathons are big, and it does well to prepare for them correctly. I’ve spent more mental energy on fueling this time, and figuring out how to approach the race from a nutrition and energy perspective. I’ve identified the right foods to eat the night before, the morning before, and during the race.
In some ways, I know that assiduously preparing all the details for a marathon that is going to take me almost five hours to finish is a little like spending two minutes lining up a putt when I’m already 30 over par. But that’s ok. I am what I am, and I am where I am, and I want to be ready to do my best, even if that’s not anywhere near as good as your best. I’m proud of me.
You have to be a little bit of a masochist, BB and her mentor say, to run a marathon. It’s true. There’s a lot of pain, a lot of exhaustion, and a lot of disorientation. “Long run brain” is this state of being punch-drunk for a good day, sometimes longer, after a run. I don’t know, physiologically, what causes it, but it’s real.
Saturday after the run, BB and I went and test-drove a couple of cars (I’m leaning toward a Subaru Crosstrek.). Then we stopped at a bakery and went home. After the elevator doors closed we realized we forgot to buy milk. BB started frantically punching elevator buttons, leading me to exclaim, “What problem do you think you’re solving?!” Neither of us could breathe for laughing, and then BB got off the elevator on the wrong floor. On purpose. Long run brain.
I’m fit for the race. Now I just have to stay fit for the next three weeks. And hope that ECC doesn’t erupt into flames and projectiles on election day.
Infactorium 