It’s the quietest epidemic out there.

Nobody wants to talk about it, because it hides in plain sight — touching more lives than you’d ever imagine: soccer moms and business professionals, teachers and nurses, doctors and therapists, teens and seniors, veterans, engineers, athletes… it spares no one.

It’s the wine every night to “take the edge off.” It’s the pills you pop just to function. It’s the endless scrolling, the food binges, the isolation.

I was a second-grade teacher and running coach, and every night, the first thing I did was pour a glass of cabernet. It started as a reward, a way to signal the end of a stressful day. But soon, it became a crutch. One glass turned into two, then half a bottle, then a whole one. Then two. I wasn’t a falling-down drunk; I was a functional one. A "coping" one. I thought I was de-stressing, but the next morning I'd wake up with a dull headache and a heavy fog in my mind. The clarity I desperately needed to be creative was gone, replaced by a constant hum of anxiety. I wasn't solving my problems; I was just postponing them until morning, with interest.

You think you’re coping. You’re not. You’re numbing. And every time you numb, you get weaker.

The Hard Truth

Self-medication doesn’t fix anything. It just pushes pain into the future — and interest builds. You wake up heavier, slower, weaker. Then you repeat the cycle. It’s cowardice disguised as “coping.” And it’s killing your potential.

Why Running Is the Opposite of Self-Medication

Running doesn’t let you hide. It exposes you. That’s why it works. When your lungs burn, that’s truth. When your legs scream, that’s honesty. When your mind begs you to quit, that’s the battlefield where you decide who you really are. You don’t run to escape. You run to confront the skeletons in your closet. And confrontation is where freedom is forged.

Pain as a Cure

For me, the bottom fell out when my marriage and my sense of identity collapsed in the same year. I was broken, shattered, and medicating with anything I could get my hands on. I was disappearing into the blur of my own self-pity. One morning, out of pure, desperate spite, I put on a pair of old shoes and went for a run. I ran until I couldn't breathe, until my chest was on fire, until tears streamed down my face. For the first time, I didn't run away from the pain; I ran right into it. The physical agony of the run was a perfect match for the emotional agony I was carrying. I ran and I wept, mile after brutal mile. And for the first time in months, I felt something real, something clean. I felt the pain, but I also felt the power of enduring it. I started running every day, bleeding out the grief on the pavement, finding myself one brutal mile at a time. The road wasn't an escape; it was my confessional, my therapy, my saving grace.

You’re broken? Good. Run on it. You’re heartbroken? Good. Bleed it out on the pavement. You’re lost? Good. Find yourself one brutal mile at a time. Running won’t baby you. It’ll beat you down and dare you to rise. That’s the medicine. The cure isn’t soft. It’s straight-up savage.

Tools to Replace Weak Habits With Strength

Craving? Lace up. Run until your lungs feel like fire. Outlast the craving. Depressed? Drag yourself out the door. Movement beats the darkness. Stressed? Forget the excuses. Do hill repeats until the stress burns off. Lonely? Put yourself in the arena. Show up at the group run. Earn respect. Stop reaching for the bottle, the pill, the distraction. Start reaching for miles.

Why This Matters

You think your life is tough? It is. And while you might be looking for comfort, what you really need is to get uncomfortable. Try running instead of drinking tonight. Try showing up raw, no numbing, no escape, just you and the road. That’s toughness. Self-medication makes you soft. Running makes you savage. Self-medication kills dreams. Running builds warriors. The choice is in front of you. Weakness or freedom.

You’re Being Called to Rise Up

Stop numbing your life. Stop medicating your pain. Pain isn’t your enemy — it’s the f***ing portal. Run into it!! Run through it. Run free. Because you don’t need a drink. You don’t need a pill. You don’t need a way out. You need a way through.

The road is waiting, and so are we. Join our family at SLOsober.com, or text "slosober" to (805) 259-1990 to take your first step toward freedom.