April 12th 2003

To many, today's date will bear no significance, with just those who were born on this day looking forward to it.To me however, April 12th is probably the most significant date on the calendar as it marks the day my uneasy relationship with alcohol finally came to an end. Life hasn't quite been the same since.

Throughout both my childhood and adult life I had experienced many problems as a result of drinking, as well as much associated anguish and unhappiness. Yet I ploughed on, trying to control the problem using a variety of methods. Only drink at the weekend, stick to wine, never touch lager, 6 pints maximum, I tried, and failed, to take control of my drinking habit. I lurched from one unsavoury incident to another, although the gap between episodes did grow when I became a parent. But the problem was always there, lurking in the background, and ready to pounce when I lowered my guard. I think I knew that the end was in sight as my frequent periods of abstinence would testify. I am pretty certain however that I had no idea that the end was in sight as I accepted an invitiation to go fishing on a farm in Shropshire on Saturday, 11th of April, 2003.

I can distinctly remember my feelings of excitement as we hurtled towards Bridgenorth on that fatal day. The talk was of fishing, and the reports of the water were remarkable. I was picturing the catch of a lifetime, and the anticipation was unbearable. As we pulled into the farm car park, and I first caught sight of the early morning mist hanging over the lake, I was hypnotised. A most incredible day was about to begin.

By mid-morning, having caught a number of fish already, I was buzzing. When the offer came of a cold can of beer, I readily accepted, and thirstily gulped it down. My self-control, lacking on even the most sober of occasions, had now disappeared, and I had now entered the drinking zone. Can after can was consumed as I revelled in the day. The fish kept coming, and so did the beer. I was losing control.

By mid-afternoon I was drunk, and was struggling to fulfil my duties as a fisherman. Tying hooks, casting out, tackling up, they became more difficult by the minute, and I was relying on my companions to help me out. My mood and increasing intoxication was a source of amusement for them, and they encouraged me to continue. When I hooked into a large tench, and found myself unable to land it, they advised me to lean forward to get my net underneath it. Seconds later and I was in the lake, joining the fish I was enjoying catching so much. As I clambered out and rested myself on the bankside, the laughter could be heard for miles around. I was laughing myself as it was, and remains to this day, quite a funny thing to happen. But inside I was crying, the shame and embarassment almost too much to bear. I remained drunk for the rest of the day before crashing out on the bed. It had been a most tmemorable day, but for all the wrong reasons.

When I got back to Liverpool the following afternoon, the house was empty. Still hungover, I drank two cans of beer to try and aide my recovery. When Jane returned I told her all about it. She had heard many takes of drunken woe, and had even witnessed a few during our time together. This tale did contain a comedy element, and she found it funny. I could even have kept it quiet, and carried on with my life as normal. But this was the final straw for me as I was truly sick of myself, and had had enough of alcohol and the problems always seemed to follow. I also felt different, as if I had finally been beaten. I had reached my rock bottom, and the only way was up. I was, at last, ready for the challenge that sobriety would pose.

Exactly a year and 1 week later I completed my first marathon, running around the street's of London in a fraction under 4 hours. I had lost weight, gained confidence, and made considerable lifestyle changes. Many more would follow in the coming weeks, months and years as I revelled in the freedom that abstinence brings. But the most important change of all was that I began to accept myself, and slowly began to like the person I was. Of all the changes this was the greatest, and the most significant.

I don't really place much importance on anniversaries, and only realised it had been 6 years earlier on today. I don't discuss my alcohol-free life unless questioned, and have completely accepted that I should never touch alcohol again. I never, not even for a second, contemplate having a drink. I've moved so far away from those dark days that it is highly unlikely I will ever make a comeback. The world is a simpler, and more productive, place to live in without alcohol. I hope it remains that way.

When I fell in the lake I let go of my rod, and it floated across the lake and settled in the middle. Not only had I lost my dignity, but I had lost my expensive rod as well. When i returned to the waters edge the floowing morning however, i spotted the rod in the corner of the lake, only 3-4 feet from the bank. I managed to grab the butt of the rod and lifted it skywards. The rod immediately bent under the strain of a sizeable fish. The tench I had struggled to land the prevuious afternoon was still hooked, and provided me with my first, and only fish, of that Sunday morning. It was a farcical ending to a never-to-be-forgotten weekend.