The Long March

Lord Humungus at Rest

This month I take another step into middle age.

Another pedal stroke closer to the grave.

I saw a buddy's Facebook post a little while ago that reminded me why I keep riding.

He said that he started his road to recovery eleven years ago. We had worked together at a couple of shops throughout the the Bay Area so I'm really proud of the fact he has turned his life around.

I spent spent about ten years at the bottom of a bottle - the family curse.

Alcoholism killed my cousin, ruined my dad's life, destroyed my friend's marriage, and  killed my wife's aunt.

There's three outcomes if acute alcoholism is not remedied, institutions, insanity or death.

I don't ride for any great cause. I don't raise money by riding my bike. I don't hand out pamphlets. The bike keeps me sane and focused. It gives me a goal to shoot for even if it's just the next pedal stroke.

If there was a reasonable chance that I could have just one shot of mezcal and stop I would but when I drink I'm like a machine that all of the safety precautions had been removed meaning once I stat there isn't an emergency off switch.

I'm not going to sit an judge. Heck, my wife drinks. She can have a single beer and stop.

My bike has brakes, I don't so that's why I ride.