I've never been much of a Valentine's girl, so my husband is a lucky man who never feels the pressure from this Hallmark-made holiday. And anyhow, there's something more interesting to me that falls on this February 14th. This year's Chinese New Year is the year of the Tiger, and for 2010, she pounces on Valentine's Day. If you were born in 1938, 1950, 1962, 1974, 1998 or 2010 (just a wee little cub), then you're a Tiger, and this is your year.
The Tiger is one of the strongest animals on the planet. She kills prey outweighing her by hundreds of pounds and can drag her kill for miles to find the best dining spot. Not a speedy predator, Panthera tigris is one of patience and strategy. You don't even see her coming. Then all of a sudden she's there...and you're gone.
My back has a happy ending, though; my surgery was a complete success. I've gotten up to 14-mile runs and have had some +20-mile weeks. I should be back to business. But instead I've been dragging my feet. Lots of "What's the point of all of this?" and "What are we all doing out here?" and "This is stupid." Not the typical interior dialog for a runner. And what an ungrateful little girl I am, too.
And then there's that whispering I hear. "Psst. Sarah. Over here." This month I will also celebrate (Well, acknowledge. Like I said--such an ungrateful girl) eight years in recovery. And though I'm in remission from consuming those quickly life-threatening goodies, I'm still a user of two very potent treats. And geez! They're kicking my butt right now.
The first one is sugar. From an early age, I've always had an appalling sweet tooth that's become infamous as I've gotten older. When I was young, there were plenty of sweets at my house. Ding Dongs were a staple. (Remember unwrapping them from the tinfoil? Best packaging.) In college, there was a bit of a dessert reprieve. I did drink lots of hot chocolates (even in Austin's humid, mid-90s weather), but really my main sugar source was alcohol. And then I graduated to other poisons, and as so many often describe it, my life spun out of control.
I reached the bottom of my slide--wait--slides are fun; this was more like slowly rappelling naked down a mountain of nails. Pitch black night. Icy wind slashing. Sorry--where was I ? Oh yes. February 17, 2002--since that day, I've stopped ingesting almost all highs. Like I said, though--all but two.
So back to the sugar. It's become my main food group. I hit all the sugar bars and sugar stores in The Woodlands/Houston area. This list isn't in any particular order really. I just make the rounds:
--Dessert Gallery: French vanilla cake (a beast that I can devour no problem.)
--Crave Cupcakes: vanilla, strawberry, and the leftovers of what my daughters don't eat of theirs.
--Hubbell and Hudson: red velvet cake (and they recognize me there. humiliating. like an alcoholic trying to be incognito in the liquor store again and again, just wanting what she needs and to get out of there.)
--Black Walnut: hummingbird cake (I actually get this one less because they charge a lot for it, and sometimes I feel like they short me on the portion size.)
--Great Harvest Bread: whole wheat cinnamon chip scone (It's right by my house. I spend so much money at this place. And, yes--very recognized here, too.)
--Randall's: sugar cookies with icing decorations of current events. (picture me biting into a Superbowl football. and yet another place where they know my face.)
--Hewlett Packard: chocolate chip cookie from their food court (my husband is expected to bring one home to me on a once-a-week basis.)
--Carol's Cookie: chocolate chip, no nuts (a 1/2 pound cookie that used to be at Whole Foods but that you can only get online now if you live in Texas--which is expensive with shipping of a perishable item, so I rarely get my Carol's. Santa and Valentines.)
--Potbelly: oatmeal chocolate chip. and the sugar, too, sometimes.
--American Cookie Co. (at the mall): big bite doozies, their other icing cookies, their domino cookie
--Misc. from the gas station: yellow Zingers, Nestle's Crunch, M&Ms, etc...
So there's a little problem with sugar.
My second high is caffeine. Specifically, Grande bold coffee from Starbucks. Just black. No sugar. (I don't care for mixing these drugs.) I'm drinking it as soon as I've dropped my daughter off at school, and then I'm wishing for another as soon as I'm done with it. Sometimes I'll get a refill price from the one by my house. And many days, I buy a Tall in the afternoon of their Pike's Peak, a weaker brew which is all they offer after the morning. I also dabble in diet Cokes and Red Bulls, but coffee is my first choice for caffeine.
To top it off, I've almost stopped drinking water. And so last week I had to make a little trip to the doctor because my misbehavior created a bladder infection. My body was saying, "Enough is enough. What the hell are you doing?" The doctor put me on an antibiotic and told me to change my crazy ways. But what do I do? After getting the medicine from the pharmacy, I pull into the Starbucks drive-thru for a ceremonial, grand finale Grande. My 4-year-old daughter scolds me from the back seat, "Mommy, the doctor said you can't have coffee," and I reply, "I know, Sweetie. Mommy's crazy."
To top it off, I've almost stopped drinking water. And so last week I had to make a little trip to the doctor because my misbehavior created a bladder infection. My body was saying, "Enough is enough. What the hell are you doing?" The doctor put me on an antibiotic and told me to change my crazy ways. But what do I do? After getting the medicine from the pharmacy, I pull into the Starbucks drive-thru for a ceremonial, grand finale Grande. My 4-year-old daughter scolds me from the back seat, "Mommy, the doctor said you can't have coffee," and I reply, "I know, Sweetie. Mommy's crazy."
And of course, it wasn't the last coffee. I took the medicine, I drank more water, I got better, and I'm back to the insanity.
What do I do about this mess I'm in? It's just like in my past. I can't make it one day without sugar and caffeine. The idea seems impossible. In some ways, quitting these two drugs seems harder than quitting the others. I don't have the option of flying to another state and living under lockdown in a treatment facility and then a halfway house for icing addiction. And rationalizing a slip is so easy when it's just dessert and coffee. "One cookie isn't going to kill me." Basically what I'm saying is: quitting cookies and coffee could prove harder than quitting all of the poisons from my past. It feels just as overwhelming and insurmountable.
So I was born in 1974. That's right--I'm a Tiger. The question is...can I act like one this year? Can I pounce, can I ambush, can I take control? Or will I continue to be a silly little kitten, batting at her catnip toys?
I hope to be a Tiger, patient and strong. But there's something about Tigers: they're solitary. They git-r-done alone. And solitude never works for someone in recovery. I can't conquer sugar and caffeine by myself. So I hope to be a Tiger--but one who accepts defeat and relies on something outside of herself to succeed. One day at a time.
I finished writing this post on Friday the 12th. And the year of the Tiger doesn't begin till Sunday. So does that mean I'm thinking about a two-day bender? Oh, ya. For sure. And what if my husband (who I need to mention is also celebrating/acknowledging eight years in recovery this month and is just as cuckoo as I am) gives me a tin of Carol's Cookies for Valentine's? We'll see.
