Saturday, July 16, 2011

A Vigilant Saturday

Day 10 of abs.

I'm back on my mountain for the weekend and it's good to be home. Yesterday afternoon could have been a trigger for me because I always want to celebrate any arrival at a destination with a glass of wine or something stronger. I did have a slight urge but I ignored it and it went away pretty quickly. No big deal. I know that my treacherous time comes around day 20. That's when I think I'm bullet proof and can handle a glass of wine or two.

I usually like to pretend I'm not a drunk on Saturdays. That doesn't mean I drink on Saturday, it means I try to act like I never drank so I don't fret about it all day. I try to channel a non-drinker (my brother, Mike, in my case) and think like he does all day. For example, I know he probably got up this morning and started thinking about which dirt bike he wants to work on today or how he's going to get out of the 10 mile bike ride his wife has planned and damn, he wishes the lawn didn't need mowed. I know at 8:00 am he's not worrying about if or when or how much he is going to drink today. I try. Obviously it doesn't always work since I'm sitting here typing this blog about drinking but I have found the longer I go without drinking the less it inhabits my brain. Other thoughts start to crowd it out. Thoughts and plans that drunkenness and hangovers wouldn't move over to make room for.

I went for my usual walk this morning with my arsenal I tote up here in the mountains. Pepper spray and a walking stick for any predators, man or beast, I might encounter, dog biscuits for my pooch pals, and lipstick in case today is the day I run into George Clooney on the trail.

Two weeks of being gone have wrought few changes on my usual route. The harebells, phlox and potentilla are in rambunctious bloom. My rambunctious four legged pals remember me or they remember the treats in my pocket. As I walk on up the road out of the "city" (Park City is a 1880's settlement of about two dozen cabins ) the road gets less populated and I grow more vigilant. I have to keep on the lookout for any dangers that might be lurking in the form of a bear of mountain lion or weirdo or crazy-ass ATV driver. I keep watch ahead of me and behind me and above me (bears sleep in trees) and beneath me (those damn rocks get me every time). And of course, my eyes are always peeled for George. The only thing I spot today is a doe crossing the road a hundred yards in front of me.

So today I'm out there staying vigilant against any glasses of wine or shots of Jack Daniels that might be lying in wait for me. Just waiting to clobber me or make me stumble at the same time I'm trying to pretend they don't exist.

I am not going to think about drinking for the rest of the day….right.

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