Human Factor Life Coaching

You don’t stop drinking to return to normal. You stop drinking because normal was killing you. Stopping drinking isn’t the end of anything — it’s the beginning.

Life doesn’t get easier when you stop drinking. It gets real. This is not recovery. This is re-construction. You don’t quit drinking to survive. You quit drinking to build a life worth committing to.

I quit drinking 15 years ago and smoking 18 months or so after that. I have struggled with my weight since. Ironically, when I was drinking, I was slim. I used to run and cycle. I was pretending to the outside world (and myself) that I was ok.

When I say struggled, I mean that I was usually 5 or 6kg over what I would I like to be. Occasionally, I have been up to 15kg over my preferred weight. I have lost weight and maintained it for periods of 6 months to two or three years.

I have tended to overeat, especially at night. This is often exacerbated by doing large volumes of exercise and then having a raging hunger. I also have a sweet tooth.

I think recovery from alcohol (and other substances and behaviours) is actually about more than just stopping. It is about becoming the person you want to be. To that extent, everyone – addicted or not – ought to do some sort of recovery program. Actually, the word “recovery” is not really sufficient.

One thing I have developed over the last 15 years is a “growth mindset”. Before, I was cynical; now, I am open. I am always trying to change and improve. Of course, you need to remove the detritus from your life in order to move on.

I have lost a significant amount of weight over the last few months just by being more focused. I recently listened to a podcast with Dr Glenn Livingston. I read his free book. He advocates creating rules. One purpose of the rules is to minimise the requirement to use will power to stop overeating.

You have finite reserves of will power and this tends to diminish throughout the day. Actually, analogous principles are involved in stopping drinking. First, you make a conscious effort to stop; then it becomes automatic.

I have written three rules for the first week. One of the rules is not to eat in the middle of the night. I was very tempted last night but I resisted. It is important to resist and then it will become easier. I’ll let you know how it goes!!!

Ps - The photos were taken within about 14 months of each other!!

I gave up smoking about 18 months after I gave up drinking. I’d wanted to give up smoking for years. However, it became increasingly anathema to the new and healthy lifestyle I’d created for myself.

The catalyst for my quitting was the passing of my uncle who, shortly after becoming QC – a dream fulfilled – was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Fortunately, I have become an anti-smoking fascist. I have never once been tempted since.

One unforeseen consequence is that I have since struggled with my weight. I was always around 83kg but I went up to almost 100kg. It has fluctuated since – not catastrophically but more than I would have liked. I would lose it when training for an Ironman. It’s hard not to! I would maintain it for a while and then it would slowly creep back on again.

My diet is generally very healthy – lots of fruit and vegetables. My failing is eating sugary foods at night. In the last 16 years, I have only ever lost a significant amount of weight in winter once. I have experimented this year and the results have been both interesting and pleasing.

The only real changes have been to eat slightly less at night, be very consistent with my exercise and to walk instead of getting the bus or the subway. The last post was about your habits determining who you become. These are habits I want to keep.

What is more important when you want to effect change – change in thought or change in action? I am using “thought” in a broad sense; I mean it to encompass perceptions and emotions as well. The interplay between the three is obviously very complicated. Action (or even inaction) is different. In a way, it is a binary thing. You either do it or you do not. It is less complicated. And in that way, it is simpler and possibly more powerful. Or perhaps more achievable.

I really didn’t feel like riding my bike this morning. I was tired. I’ve trained a lot recently. I hadn’t slept well. It was quite cold – around minus 4. I thought at least the wind would be with me for the first half of the loop. It wasn’t – those first 26 miles were into a strong wind. It sucked. But that soon passed. It wasn’t exactly back wind home but I’d done my 53 mile loop before 10.15am. It set me up for the day.

I think action is the key. Of course, I’d had that inner conversation – shall I, shan’t I – for a short time before I went for the ride. In the end, I didn’t think about it too much. I just got my stuff on and went. This is because the habit of exercise and health is ingrained. It overrode the “thought”. Of course positive thoughts, emotions etc. followed after the ride.

This obviously has much broader implications and applications. For example, first you have to stop drinking. You keep doing that (or actually not doing that). You build good habits around that simple action. Those habits slowly ingrain. Eventually, this will change your thoughts, emotions and perceptions. So, the answer is just to do it. Try not to think about it too much. Just do it.

I have had a number of delightfully snide comments on my page. They are generally in the ilk of AA being free and that consequently I am somehow a charlatan for proposing to make a charge for my services. I do not especially mind; it just seems a little inadequate to denigrate someone you do not know in around two poorly written sentences.

To say that AA is free is rather to state the obvious. It also did not work for me. I do however accept that it works for some and that is great. The recovery rate for alcoholics is however abysmally low. The recovery rate for those who attend AA is not vastly better. That suggests to me at least that addiction is a capricious illness.

By contrast, rehab is not free. That point was not made in the two sentences. On the whole, rehab did not work for me though one treatment facility did plant a seed. Those stints in rehab cost me thousands of pounds. I do not resent spending that money as is it what I needed at the time.

I am glad I have had 16 years of good recovery. You have to be careful about looking back. However, if I had got my s**t together in my early 20s, even mid or late 20s, my life would most likely have gone on a different trajectory – certainly likely much better in an economic sense. In that regard, I (or those close to me) would happily have paid whatever fee I charge now as the financial rewards would likely have outstripped that by several thousandfold.

I wish anyone who suffers from addiction, in whatever form, the best. If I can help, I will.

“It’s ok to start again” was the title of an excellent podcast I listened to last night. They referred to the “Tarzan effect”. Of course, given that the interviewer and interviewee were both white, this is likely both racist and cultural appropriation. That of course is an irrelevant aside though whilst I am not sure the “Tarzan effect” works completely as an analogy, the wisdom contained therein is sound.

Imagine Tarzan swinging gracefully from tree to tree ape-like on vines. The vine or creeper he swings from of course symbolises his past life; the vine he reaches out to represents the new. But what if there is no vine to swing to: you are swinging into the unknown.

The extrapolated wisdom appears to be this. We tend to procrastinate on big decisions and tend not to make the metaphoric leap until there is something to go to. That may never actually manifest itself and you stay stuck. However, it is only when you leave that old life behind that you fully appreciate your circumstance. This does not preclude being strategic moving forward but it does discourage inertia.

I think one way of recovering from alcohol is finding a purpose. For, if when you quit drinking, you have nothing better to do, then you’re quite likely to relapse. But one problem is that I am not sure everyone has a “life purpose” or if they do, it’s not immediately apparent or attainable. I am not sure I do except in a very general sense. I think it is however possible to have “mini purposes”.

These could be as simple as tidying your house or training for a 10km run. Obviously, these are relatively simple things to do. And for most of us, they are eminently attainable. Our eyes are on the front of our heads. We aim at what we look at. When you set your mind on a run, say, it sets in motion a whole chain of positive actions.

For example, you have to train for the event. This takes some planning. Maybe you find a coach. Maybe you join a running club. Maybe you change your diet. Maybe you meet some new people – people who are better than you at running. You get advice. You make new friends. You train. It’s hard. You feel good. It opens up a whole range of possibilities.

It’s better than lying on the sofa doing nothing, drinking or thinking about drinking. And maybe it can lead to something even better.

The photo was taken after we’d ridden about 260 miles with some 10,000m of climbing. We’d been riding for about 26 hours. I’d say it was about 8.30am. The ride finished with an ascent of Jirisan – about 900m of vertical elevation followed by a longish descent and then another 400m climb to the top.

About 3 hours before, I was totally spent. I don’t mind riding through the night. But it’s the pre-dawn / half light that kills me. My generation is generally not triggered by too much but this is something that really gets me. All I’d wanted to do was to get off my bike and sleep. The best I could manage was to suck Jason’s wheel.

We stopped at a convenience store for something to eat. I find it really difficult to eat after more than about 12 hours on the bike, especially when it’s hot. I felt somewhat better. We chatted the whole way up a shortish climb before where this picture was taken. We are trying to get some calories on board for the final climbs.

It didn’t help (much). I could barely push 220 watts up the climb which meant zig zagging most of the way. We eventually reached the first summit. We descended. And then the power suddenly came back for the final climb. I don’t know why this is. You always go through low periods on long rides (or runs, or whatever) but if you stick with it, you will feel better.

And the same applies more generally in life. If you aim for something worthy, there will be times when it gets really hard and you just want to give up. The key is to appreciate this and know that it will pass. Be consistent. Get through it. And when it does pass you will have learned an amazing and valuable lesson. And then next time it will be easier.

I tried to read a book a week. I came across this passage last night. It was somewhat a non sequitur in the context of the short story - the book is a collection of short stories. However, the wisdom remains true: Don't complain. Take responsibility for your actions (and inaction). Be consistent. And you won't go too far wrong.

I just finished David Goggins’ Can’t Hurt Me. It was an inspirational book. One of the themes which pervades is to “get uncomfortable” for through discomfort comes growth.

For one reason or another - not COVID related - 2020 was a difficult year, especially its final two months. I did however decide in September to train for a proper ultra. I did an entry level 50km in 2012 and have always regretted not running the 100km iteration of the event as I was so fit that year. I trained for a couple of months and got injured. The objective however remains.

I’ve not done any long stuff for a few years. I remember riding a 1200km Grand Radonnee in 2013. I rode in a group for the first 70 miles and then went off on my own. 700 or so miles is actually quite a long time to spend in your own company (especially mine!). I was really sleepy after the first day. I stopped in the middle of the night and got about an hour of sleep in a motel.

I re-started in the pre-dawn. I was still really sleepy – persistent overwhelming urges to sleep. I remember freewheeling, looking down at my Garmin. And then “boom”!! I’d fallen asleep momentarily and crashed into the back of a Bongo. Which woke me up. Fortunately, there was no damage to the bike. I stopped and had an ice cream and I was good to go.

At about 800km and maybe 7.30pm I hurt my Achilles. I’ve never hurt my Achilles on my bike before. It was really painful. Excruciatingly painful. What do you do? Give up after 500 miles or continue? I continued. At that time, convenience stores didn’t sell pain killers. I had to wait a full 14 hours before I could get to a pharmacy. I’d ridden another 300 agonising kilometers by that point. The relief was immediate when I finally managed to swallow several pills. I finished the ride and travelled back to Seoul. It took 10 days to recover from the Achilles problem.

I’ve not done any long stuff for a few years for a variety of reasons. I’ve been back training for 3 months. I think this year I really want to hurt myself again……