Walking Away From Booze

Sometimes the simplest things are the best.

I find that walking is an invaluable sober tool. For a whole host of reasons. Here are five of them:

1. It has no booze associations

However much of a hardened drinker you are/were it is unlikely that you used to go for a walk with a glass of Chardonnay in hand.

(In my case, walking was one of the few occasions when I wouldn't have a glass of wine nearby).

That's why it's a perfect activity around wine o'clock, when you really, really want a drink. Just go. Walk out the door. (I'm channelling my inner Gloria Gaynor here).

Get away from the fridge, the wine rack, the irritations of home and walk. Walk until you feel better.

(N.B. Remember to plan a route that does not go past your favourite pub or bottle shop).

2.  It's a natural drug.

We enthusiastic imbibers rather like our drugs, our highs. And walking is a natural high. It releases serotonin which boosts your mood.

Numerous studies have shown that walking helps reduce depression, anxiety and can even ward off Alzheimer's.

3. It can be social

I avoided parties for a while. But I'm a sociable person. I wouldn't want an alcohol free life that turned me into a hermit.

So, even in the days when I avoided going out too much in the evenings, I would arrange to meet friends during the day for a dog walk.

I'd spend an hour of the day drinking coffee, catching up with an old friend and getting myself, and the dog, fit. That's multitasking ;-)

4. It blitzes the belly

One of the best consolation prizes for ditching the booze is losing weight, especially the dreaded wine belly (see my post: Wine Bellies Can Kill).

Walking not only burns calories and builds muscle, but it can improve your body's response to insulin which leads to reduced belly fat.

5. It reduces your risk of chronic disease

Again, there are a huge number of studies showing that walking can be a wonder drug.

It lowers your blood sugar and, therefore, your risk of diabetes, it lowers blood pressure and your risk of heart disease and stroke, and it reduces your risk of cancer - especially breast and colon cancer.

When I first had the cancer diagnosis (eight months after I quit drinking. To read my story, click here), and I knew that easiest and quickest way to blot it all out, to silence all the thoughts of death and motherless children, would be to pour a large glass of wine (and then drink the whole bottle), walking saved me.

I would take the dog out to the nearest park and then howl. Literally.

(I once bumped into a school gate Mum while doing this. It was what the children would describe as #awks).

Walking calmed my thoughts. It made me feel happier - or at least less desperate. And, crucially, it got me away from the vino.

But tonight I may just be overdoing it on the walking front.

#1 and I are doing the Moonwalk (she's only just old enough, so will be one of the youngest there).

It's a twenty six mile walk through the centre of London with thousands of other women (and some men) all decked out in decorated bras (even the men), in aid of breast cancer charities.

We've raised nearly £2,500 between us, so we've got to make it through to the end!

We set off at 10pm, and should finish at around 7am. I haven't been up all night for a very long time, and certainly not because I was walking. Wish us luck!

I'm not going to post my Moonwalk fundraising page because I'm still a little twitchy about my own anonymity, and a lot twitchy about my daughter's

However if you would like to support us, and help other women dealing with breast cancer, then please please visit my Justgiving page in support of the Haven Breast Cancer Support Centre.

Here's the link: www.justgiving.com/sober-mummy

THANK YOU!

Love SM x

Everything is Relative

I've been haunted by all the photos, on Facebook and in the media, of dead children washed up on the shores of the Greek islands and Turkey.

As a drinker, I was not a very compassionate person.

I think my brain spent far too much of its time thinking about the next drinking opportunity, or recovering from the last one.

And if I did happen to come across a terrible story that hit me hard through the fug, I had a solution for that.....vino. A few glugs and, like magic, not bothered any more.

But today, I'm feeling ashamed. Because there is no doubt that the journey to Alcohol Free is a hard one, but I look at those pictures of the people who are making the treacherous journey from Syria, and countries like it, to Europe and realise that everything is relative.

These people haven't just given up their 'prop', their 'best friend', they've left their homes, their culture, their families and friends, their wealth and possessions. Everything they own....

.....just to survive. Just to keep their children alive. Just to live in a world where you can get an education. Show your bare face, or an ankle. Love whomever you want. Feed and clothe your children. Worship the God you choose.

Yes, it's difficult for us to keep our heads above water sometimes, but I looked at a picture of a mother in the Mediterranean sea, trying desperately to stay alive so that she could keep her baby's head above the water for long enough for the rescue boat to reach her, and realised that I cannot even begin to comprehend how that feels.

I've posted before about the importance of self-compassion. And it is important. We have to be kind to ourselves, to love ourselves and to forgive ourselves if we're ever going to make it to Properly Sober, but I'm worried that along the way I've neglected compassion for others.

So next time the wine witch comes calling, and I'm feeling sorry for myself, I'm going to think of those women on those overcrowded boats with their children. Women who've risked everything for an outcome which is horribly uncertain in countries that welcome them with crossed arms and suspicious faces. Women who don't have a glass of Chablis to take the edge off their terror.

I owe it to women like them, as well as to myself, to make the very best of my life, and to use it to help others.

So here's to women struggling everywhere. However large or small the obstacles.

Courage mes braves.

SM x