Looking Good in Green (No Picture Included)

             Three years ago, I was drinking green beer.

An ex and I entered ourselves in a St. Patrick’s Day .10k (yes, point 10k, a few hundred feet) run, put on by 94.1 WJJO--a rock station in Madison, WI. This was a pedestrian-run bar hopping event cloaked under the guise of fitness; it truly captured the Madison spirit. It wasn’t my first (or last) race from one bar to another, but it was the first one that came with a free green t-shirt!

I’ve been told it was really fun, and that it was one of “the good times.” I wouldn’t really know for sure. I was so hammered by the time that I got to the event, that I don’t recall a thing. She took pictures, so I know that I was there--physically, at least. There I am in the digital photo: At the finish line of the .10k (or the starting line, it doesn’t matter), with a green beer in my hand, beer-soaked green shirt on my back, and a cigarette hanging out of my green mouth of my green face. Those were the days. I wasn’t concerned with a toxic relationship—I could drink myself into believing I was satisfied! I wasn’t preoccupied with finding a more stable place to live—the next year’s rehab center filled in for an apartment. Indeed, I didn’t know how glamorous the words, “elevated liver enzymes”. I’m up to speed on all of that now. Maybe this time it will stick.

I’m lucky to be alive and sober through another holiday. No, I don’t resent St. Paddy’s day, or alcohol, or anyone or anything for that matter. I am content to remember, and happy to write, even if I sound overly-cynical or sarcastic. Writing allows me to connect my thoughts to my memories, and since I don’t keep pictures around from my drinking days, I write, so I can paint the pictures for myself. I see the colors brighter this way.

 

This St. Patrick’s Day will be a little more demanding of my body, as I hit the open highway to actually run, instead of hobbling drunk down the street. This time I’ll run for a couple miles instead of a few hundred feet, and there won’t be a bar at the finish line. I won’t have a cold, green beer to welcome me home. That’s good. I never looked good in green anyway.

 

 

 

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Comment below telling me your plans for St. Patrick's Day, or tell me your favorite holiday to write about, or just comment with your thoughts.

 

Thank you for reading.