Saturday, March 3, 2012:
What a miserable, dreary day. It’s been raining without cease. We’re locked in our housing units due to tornado warnings.
The upside is that I’ve been able to lie on my bunk all day reading, escaping to another world. It’s a welcomed rest anyway.
I completed my nine month drug program on Thursday, the final hurdle in a marathon of hurdles before I’m released back to a very different world than the one I left twelve years ago.
Speaking of marathons, I celebrated my “graduation” with 26.2 miles yesterday, so I definitely needed the rest and recovery today. My protege, Cricket, who I’ve been training for three months, completed his first marathon, so I got a double dose of accomplishment, if I may toot my own horn.
My prison sentence has not been unlike running a marathon. You can’t look at the whole thing and say, “I’ve got to complete that?” It’s too overwhelming. It’s done one day at a time, one foot in front of the other.
It’s done by living in the present, being mindful of what’s happening right now, being aware of every breath I take. And crossing the finish line is the greatest feeling in the world.
That’s ironic because I almost killed myself chasing the greatest feeling in the world. How absurd it is to realize that all the heartache and misery I created, for me and everyone who cared about me, was for a feeling. It wasn’t for wealth, fame, status, or love, the usual culprits. It was for a feeling. I just wanted to feel good.
Is there a greater example of self-deception?
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