Ten years ago I woke up on a Sunday morning.  I started the coffee, next I poured a large glass of water and dropped in two alka-seltzer tablets.  As I sipped my hangover medicine and waited for the coffee to finish I stared at the blank page, trying to focus.

I promised my wife I would work in the back yard. I also wanted to start a new workout program. It was Sunday morning and I still had time but I felt like shit. On top of that I planned a “Sunday Funday” that afternoon with my friends.

I picked up my pen and wrote

“I am deeply unhappy with myself and my life. I think alcohol is becoming a problem for me”. 

But if I stopped drinking my friends would think I was an alcoholic. I could not imagine making friends and having fun without alcohol. 

Being sober was going to kill my social life.  I heard that voice in my head loud and clear.  

Just one drink is not going to do any harm, but it was never one drink and it left me feeling stuck.

It’s been ten years since that Sunday morning. For the last seven of them, I’ve been sober.

That sentence in my journal didn't magically fix me; it was the start of an internal battle.

For years, I thought I could win it with willpower alone—that I could just argue with the drinking voice in my head until it gave up. But I never won the argument.

My solution wasn't to fight harder, but to do something simpler. I started walking. When the urge hit, instead of battling it in my mind, I would just walk out the door. A walk around the block couldn't solve all my problems, but it could do one crucial thing: it could quiet the drinking voice long enough for the other one to be heard. It was in those quiet moments that the part of me that supported my sobriety began to build its strength.

As the part of me that supported my sobriety grew stronger, I had a thought this summer: What if I invited others who were feeling the same way to walk with me on Sunday mornings? The act of walking is powerful, but I believe showing up and walking together is even stronger.

So, I’m inviting you to do just that. Come experience what a real social activity feels like without the pressure of drinking.

Looking forward to walking with you.

Terry Grier