I’m combining two days in one since my entry on Day 71 is super short after my wife and I enjoyed our first night away without kids in years. That was Day 70 of my sobriety journey when I learned that the real challenge I face in recasting my relationship with alcohol is associative. On Day 71, I lost the final loop on my belt despite weighing 0.7 pounds heavier this morning. Must be all my new muscles.
Zero ; Lucky ; M: 132 ; C: 95 ; P/U: 60 ; W : 4 mi
Health R.O.S.
- Weight: 206.6
- BMI: 27.9
- Fat %: 21.3
The ‘Eating at the Bar’ Associative Challenge
It was wonderful to have a night away with my wife up in the mountains. After a highly competitive Scrabble battle (we’re fans of the board with the locking tiles), we headed out to dinner at a fantastic local restaurant. The challenge was that due to the popularity of the venue, we were unable to secure a reservation. So, we drove down there and took our chances at the bar. Fortunately, there were exactly two stools available when we arrived.
Sitting at the bar for dinner is quite a challenge when you’re trying to refrain from drinking alcohol. While my wife had a couple glasses of wine, I managed to stick to Perrier since they didn’t have any non-alcoholic beer choices available. I find that drinking bubbly water helps when I’m craving beer.
Yet where I succeeded in staying sober, I went off the reservation with dinner and dessert! I got a big ol’ burger and ‘duck fat’ fries and washed that down with some flourless chocolate cake and handspun ice cream. Man oh man…
As a consequence, I’m planning to intermittent fast tonight and get myself back on track. Last night’s dinner, while delicious, was about as far from The Plant Paradox as I could possibly imagine. Oh well, gotta live sometimes! Today is a new day.
Cold Mountain Beers
Eating dinner saddled up to a bar with alcohol slinging mixologists wasn’t my only sobriety challenge yesterday. Drinkie dropped by constantly throughout the day to tempt me with ice cold beer.
As I mentioned above, the real challenge of remaining sober in the mountains is associative. Over the years, I’ve come to associate visiting the mountains with drinking beer (along with plenty of other stuff) and smoking pot.
Therefore, whenever I’m in the mountains, I’m often confronted with strong urges to drink. I want to have a beer outside at the fire table or sitting in my favorite brown leather chair in front of the fireplace. I enjoy drinking beer while sitting at the game table playing cards and board games.
That’s not even considering socializing at the lake, visiting the local breweries and taprooms, etc
Lately, I’ve felt less inclined to spend time up here because I know I won’t be drinking and if I do, I’ll be doing so mindfully. And mindfully is a code word for – drinking without getting drunk. I very much love the mountains so I’m using meditation and tools like RAIN to reframe my relationship with alcohol so I am able to relax and continue to enjoy my time here. It’s just a new and different kind of enjoyment.
The Hardest Place to Be Sober
Frankly, for me personally, the mountains are by far the hardest place to remain sober. I feel so much nostalgia for drinking whenever I’m here.
And there is a lot of associative emotional baggage to boot. When we had our old place, it was more or less a drink fest. We’d host all of our beer and wine guzzling friends and their families for the weekend. The parents would drink the night away while the kids played together and watched movies.
It was also a place that saw a lot of marijuana smoking both inside and out. Lots of great memories over the years were made here.
Our new place was purchased for different reasons. More for our family and less for all of the rowdy guests.
And because our new place became a refuge for my youngest daughter and me during covid, it saw a lot less pot smoking. The main reason for this was pot made me too tired to survive our 15 hour days of imaginative play in the 500 Acre Wood. It’s not to say I never smoked pot, but pot was incompatible with the kind of nonstop playing marathons we’re talking about here. Alcohol, on the other hand, was a real champ in fueling my imagination for hours on end.
A Dream About Weed
Last night while I slept, I dreamt that someone (I can’t remember who) offered me a hit off their joint. Tempting as my unconscious dreaming self found this offer, I turned it down. My sleeping self didn’t want to break my current non-smoking streak of 95 days. Pretty incredible!
I can only imagine that for this to occur, I must be experiencing some serious fundamental rewiring of my brain. And that is very encouraging.
