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    Over this past training block, I experienced a massive mindset shift that has allowed me to enjoy training more and move through life with more appreciation for every moment. I want to share that, but I think first, we must go back and lay the groundwork a little bit about my background. 

 

    Let's go back to 13-year-old Connor. On the outside, I was a seemingly athletic kid playing sports year-round, with two loving parents, and going to a private school with everything I could ask for. Looking back, I often ask myself how I found a way almost constantly, but to understand that, I must reflect on what was happening inside. I played on a soccer team where I heard disgusting nicknames more than my own, which then found their way into my school. Even my friends on the soccer teams stood without opposition to this and were a part of it too. I had been struggling in school for the first time and wouldn’t say I had a close friend group. Inside my head, the thought “I hate myself” repeated more than any other, and my mornings were filled with anxiety about going to school, leading to arguments with my parents. Often, we would pull into the school drop-off line, and I’d throw up into a bag, overwhelmed with anxiety. I had just started going to therapy, which in my head only reaffirmed my thoughts that something was wrong with me. To paint the whole picture, I was a complete mess. Lost with what direction I should go to escape this pain, I found something available. 

 

    Alcohol. I remember my first drinks being around 13, when I would be home alone, I would try a couple of shots. No one knew, and it never made me feel drunk around my parents, but I knew people drank to feel better sometimes, so why couldn't it do the same for me? This would continue for years until about 16. Sometimes sneaking a few shots once or twice a week, sometimes it could be once a month. I remember being 14, filling a water bottle about halfway with vodka, going for a walk, drinking it on my way back home, and not being able to leave my room because I knew I had gotten too drunk. Then something happened at 16 that showed my parents what had been happening and caused me to stop this habit.

 

    Sixteen years old I had a slightly better grasp than 13. I managed to get a girlfriend and start working. Continued to play soccer and became physical enough within the game that the name-calling had faded. I was still going to therapy (new therapist, thank god). I was taking some anti-anxiety meds that were probably helping, but overall, I was in a better headspace. Well then, I got broken up with and found myself retreating back to drinking more. I would try to work to avoid the anxiety, but it was often overwhelming. Continuing to think, “What’s wrong with me?” and “I hate myself” could sneak their way in if I were having a bad day. Then came the day, it lined up perfectly. My brothers would both be at their own sleepovers, and my parents would be at an event until late at night. Time to drink, but this time I had the whole night, so I pulled out everything from my parents' liquor cabinet to try and throw back a few beers. I quickly blacked out and woke up to my parents picking me up off of the grass in my backyard covered in throw up. I had gotten so drunk that I left all of the drinks out, walked outside to throw up, left the house door open, and never found my way back in. Very lucky to walk away alive that night. My parents were shocked and traumatized, to say the least. I can remember them both putting me in the shower, scared and shocked at the state I was in. They asked me why in the morning, and I could hardly give an explanation. I could never forget that night and how my parents felt, so it was a wake-up call for me. No more drinking alone. 

 

    Life would continue to go on. I started to find the gym and running after completing my first half marathon, about one year after this event. I was very weak at the start, but seeing the gains come made me not only happy with the mirror but proud of myself. After being the weak, skinny kid throughout my life, I had become the slightly less weak kid, which did me well on the soccer field. During this time, I would continue to drink but only with friends and without direct motives of escaping sadness or emotion. Made my way through high school, still without an exact friend group, but I think I enjoyed that a little. Still working with a therapist, but able to stop taking any medicines. I started to come into my own a little bit thinking things like “fuck normal”. High school finishes, and I find my way into college. 

 

    Started spring 2021 at UNCG, and within the first day, I met someone and was headed to an event for the weekend. The semester went on, and I joined a fraternity. Well, this almost fit perfectly for my drinking. Constantly surrounded by people who were also drinking, large quantities of alcohol readily available, it was “great”. I would make this rule to only drink once per week, but when I did, it was close to blacking out every time- not a great habit to start. Now 19, 6 years from when I first started drinking, I could feel the craving inch into my mind throughout the week, waiting for that day I could let school and work go and just drink until I couldn’t. As I became more aware, I steadily dialed it back closer to once or twice a month. The semester ends, and the summer comes. A great summer, traveling with my girlfriend and her family at the time. It was my first time getting out and exploring, but I was sure it wouldn’t be my last time exploring. 

 

    The fall semester comes, and I have moved out of my parents' house now, which was very exciting and a great learning experience. I broke up with my girlfriend in the first week of the semester. Oh boy. I had been dating this girl on and off for 2ish years at this point, but it was time to part ways. I needed to escape this pain so the first weekend apart I went to a party and drank myself to the point of being covered in piss face down in my backyard. Like a rewind of being 16. My roommate's car headlights found me there, and I quickly perked up. They helped me get inside and quickly fell asleep. New drinking rule- no drinking when upset. Overall, the year went on reasonably well. The occasional emotional day or so, but I was able to go to the gym and fill my schedule to the brim to keep the days moving. First year out of the house made it alive and well. 

 

    The second year stayed smooth until my 21st birthday. At this point, I rarely drank because I was working, lifting, training for a marathon, and playing club soccer. My tolerance was nothing compared to what it had been. Being 21, I ignored this and thought I was a tank. So I drank half of a 1.75L Tito's bottle from about 6-9 pm because you have to pregame the bars, right? Well, that's what you should do if you want to lock yourself in the bar bathroom after 15 minutes and get carried out on the shoulders of the bouncer. Screaming at my brother on the way home, and I was stuck in the bathroom for the next 8 hours. I was upset that I let myself do it again, but that didn’t sting as much as the shame I felt from my brother and girlfriend. I wanted to make sure it never happened again. I think it was me crying out for help. I had a lot on my plate, and it was my one day to escape it and forget about any insecurities that still lingered inside me. I only drank twice after this and have been sober for over 14 months now. 

 

    Fast forward to the summer of 2024. I got “blindsided" with a breakup text that I wasn’t expecting. After some internal review, there were so many signs that I don’t know how I was blind. But I had the option to go out and revisit those habits I had built up and find an excuse to get piss drunk again. Instead, I found a way to pour it all into training, running to avoid the pain. It worked amazingly, and I got in good shape. It helped me create the love for running that I have today. During this, I started to ask myself, am I running away from these emotions and feelings, or am I running just to become a better man? I was constantly working over this entire period to avoid being that 13-year-old kid because he was so bad. That's where the shift happened.

 

    I stopped running away from those versions of me I was ashamed of and started running with them. Started to peel back the shame I had and the resentment I had towards that little kid. I started doing the runs to let that 13-year-old know that it's okay. I would work through the mistakes that I had made and the hardest part- the people I had hurt. That he never had to be perfect, and that I am proud of him for doing the best he could at the time. Working to improve from the past versions of yourself is key to life. I was working on this from a place of hate and madness towards who I was before. Now it is from a place of love and gratitude that I was able to be strong enough to keep living and moving forward when it felt so dark. So I leave you with this. 

 

    Working every day out of love for the strength you have displayed in the past, just to keep living, and for the love of you in the future, who will get to enjoy the results of your hard work, will always bring you further than doing it out of hatred of who you have been. Lead with Love.