Saturday, April 2, 2011

My Little Yellow Pill

Let it be clear that I am not an addict nor do I endorse the use of non prescription drugs. That sounds a lot like a statement made on the last day of rehab. "No, I'm not just saying that to get out of here, I mostly...er...I completely believe it."

Like many great athletes, I have fallen into the trappings that come with too much fame and too much money. Wild sex parties, booze, and drugs. Oh the parties. One party rolls into the next and the next and the next, until one day you roll over and find a goat in your bed. At first you're disgusted but upon further examination you see that the goat actually looks better than some of the women you've been with. The goat  mumbles something under its breath , trots off to pick up a six pack and never returns. Bastard.  

Maybe it's not been quite like that but I will admit to becoming very friendly with some little yellow pills. You see (here comes my justification) my lower back has been hurting. Hurting to the point where I walk like an ape struggling with constipation. It started to seize up and spasm - too much of that and I'm on the floor for a couple days, unable to stand, unable to move.  Who would come and empty my pee cup?  Thank you. I know you would and that means a lot to me. On top of this, I just finished rehabbing two very tight muscles that had prevented me from running and had just received the all clear to run. F'ing back. I'd kick my own ass if I wasn't afraid I'd go into a muscle spasm and end up curled up in a ball on the floor crying for my mommy. Hey now, I only did that once so let's stop making such a big deal of it.

I was desperate. In the medicine cabinet I found some pills. Little yellow pills. The bottle indicated that they were to be used for muscle spasms and pain. Oh sweet Jesus, I'm saved!  Now the prescription did not have my name on it however, there was something glorious on the bottom - the expiration date had not come and gone.  Twenty minutes later I had figured out how to open the child proof cap and emptied a few into the palm of my hand. So innocent were they. Small pretty little yellow pills. Maybe I should try one. Then it came. You know, that little voice inside your head. It did not mince words with me. It said loud and clear - "TAKE ONE"....so I did. It was no big deal at first but hours later I begin to feel different. Not better but different. That was a week ago and I had that same conversation with the little voice every day since that day and it never let me down.

Thursday night I was told I was stoned. Today I went with the group on a trail run. I was going to walk to help loosen my back up. Running due to my F'ing back, was still taking a back seat. At the Y and on the drive to the trail, multiple comments were made about my lack of attention, my staring into nothing, and not quite being myself. Little yellow pill jokes were surfacing. I don't have a problem. I was on the trail for over 90 minutes today, most of it alone. At one point I suddenly begin to feel really good. I mean like nothing hurt, I was almost walking on air. I looked at the trail as it laid out before me and I heard it calling to me. Talking to me. Telling me it was ok to run. Everything would be ok. I kept walking and the road kept reaching up to me. I jogged a bit and we both smiled. Shortly I was around the corner and Anneke, Jen, and Robin were in the car waiting for me. I jogged towards them and slide in the car. Happy.

On the way to Starbucks and while sipping a coffee there, the girls mentioned my looking out into nothing and not being myself. I could feel that I wasn't all there but really could do little about it. Holy F'ing shit balls of fire, those yellow pills might have taken hold of me. I'd been taking them every day trying to get better. I probably had some mini interventions. Sharon had told me I was stoned. Jen and Robin giggled and shared similar words. Anneke said I wasn't myself.  Gads...I'm a stoner. I committed to not take any more little yellow pills, nor the large white ones in the bottle next to them. That was hours ago and now I'm writing this blog with an ice pack on my back  - yup, going old school. So worry not my friends, Mikey will be back to his old self Sunday morning. Maybe a bit shaky...maybe a bit sore...but he will be himself and really, you have to admit it, don't you just love that guy?!?!

1 comment:

  1. That trail is quite the temptress. I was walking too, nursing my sore hamstring, and she almost had me running too.

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