There's a Lot More than 4,734 Miles Between Us

Photo by Matthew Waliszek

I admit, it has been a little difficult to pull this one together!

The response to my last blog was glorious and overwhelming!  

One day I offered my bike to another race participant because her bike was broke.  

A week and a half later, I was flown up to Anchorage, Alaska, to meet her friends, family, and community members - who are incredibly kind and welcoming!  

My Alaskan Adventure was incredible and there are so many things I could write about (I linked the places I went on my journey in case you are curious and want to learn more!), from licking the side of a glacier inside a giant ice cave near the Portage Glacier, the heartwarming community potluck they hosted for Tiffany and I at First Presbyterian Church of Anchorage, the fundraising spin class at Vib Cycle that raised money for Running Free Alaska (Running Club for women who are currently incarcerated - $460 raised for sports bras and sneakers!!), to the most amazing gluten free peanut butter chocolate dessert I've ever had at Middle Way Cafe!  Saturday night, we even made a stop at La Potato, (unfortunately, I did not eat any potatoes) to stand out in the cold for 25 minutes to hear -and dance to - the awesome local band,  Medium Build!  

Photo by Matthew Waliszek

I've taken some time to process this string of events and I'd like to write about a powerful message I heard throughout the weekend, from Tiffany and her many friends, and one that I will continue to carry with me, far beyond Anchorage...

***
I wasn't sure what to expect, honestly.

Before I left for Alaska, I imagined what it would be like to spend 4 1/2 days with someone I had met for under 5 minutes, and my mind went blank.  I imagined how she might be feeling about hosting a stranger in her own home.  This encounter of two women triathletes - one from 88 degree Winter Park, Florida, and the other from 28 degree Anchorage, Alaska - really had all the makings of an awkward disaster.

But that, my friends, was the very last thing that our encounter was...

Immediately after landing, Tiffany and I were interviewed by Dave Leval of KTVA 11 News and then told our story would be on the 10:00 news.  What an incredible welcome!  I hope my hair looked ok.  I had been on a plane for 12 hours ya know!  

We drove through Anchorage, made small chat, and then decided we needed to relax a bit before taking on the big city night life.  With legs tucked up under us, a dim light between us, and an Alaskan night surrounding us, we wrapped our hands around warm mugs of hot tea and began chatting.  We talked about family, jobs and our passions.  

We even filled in questions we still had about each other from the race. For example, Tiffany asked me "So after I pulled away on your bike, you were left without shoes, right?  Did you go back to race HQ and your family barefoot?"  (yes!)

From my end, I was really wondering how the mechanics of my bike had worked out for her since she still had another 100 miles to go! "I know my clips (for non-cyclists, clips are what attach your cycling shoe to the pedal; you are literally clipped to your bike!) are really tight...did that end up being ok for you?"

Tiffany's answer cracked us both up:  "No, actually, it was not.  I literally tipped over on your bike twice, trying to get my feet out of your clips."  

Guess I need to loosen my clips before I lend my bike out again!

That night, we took a brisk, and man do I mean brisk, walk .8 of a mile to the downtown Anchorage Museum.  Tiffany realized just what kind of cold weather wuss she was with when we had to pull my eyelashes back open from the frozen tears that left them stuck shut ;)  

Why did we walk to a museum?  Just two days earlier when Tiffany had texted me, asking what I wanted to do while in Alaska, my answer was "I want to know the city of Anchorage; I want to see a local band, go to a coffee shop, see where you work, and just learn more about your work and what makes your city hum."

So, that's what we did.  

At the Anchorage Museum restaurant, we both ordered bacon cheeseburgers and fries for dinner, and then proceeded to the third floor where we walked down row after row of Alaska's Native collections, including pieces of wardrobe, tools, and supplies from the Eskimos and Aleuts.

It was all so beautiful.

I was enamored.

I listened as Tiffany told me stories of Alaskan history and then how some of those stories are related to her current line of work as the Executive Director of Recover Alaska.  She told me of her own road to sobriety, and how she is now helping thousands of others find their way to sobriety too.

"It is all connected" she said, "Domestic violence, obesity, adultery, child abuse, even rape...it is all connected to alcohol, especially up here where we have twice the national average of people dying from alcohol." 

I admitted I had not connected those things before.

"Nope, most people don't.  But when people decide to get 100% sober, a lot of other problems in life get fixed too!" 

She went on...

"The Alaska rape rate is 2.5 the national average and child sexual assault in Alaska is almost six times the national average (more here)...sexual assault is just part of life up here for too many girls and women;  young girls are told to wear two pairs of jeans to make the assault more difficult and to hopefully slow it down some."

My eyes filled with tears.  I have daughters.  I stopped our walking down the the museum hallway.

And I took a good look into my new friend's eyes.  

"Really?  Wear two pairs of jeans?  That's the solution?"

"No. That is why we are trying to sober, educate and equip communities up here, in order to end it."  

And here I thought I handed my bike off to just another cyclist.

No, I handed my bike to a passionate Alaskan advocate; an advocate seeking justice for her female counterparts across the state and a path of freedom for all of those bound and trapped by the destruction of alcohol.

The next morning I asked more questions and what caught my heart and ears the most, was hearing her name all those issues our communities face that are associated with alcohol.  I learned more about alcohol, the things I'd become numb to, how inundated we are with lies about alcohol and how it will make us feel, look, or act.  There is this rich and glamorous flow of billboards, airport signs, television ads, and as Tiffany pointed out - even t-shirt slogans.  Tiffany was able to rattle off dozens of things I had not even noticed when it comes to alcohol awareness, abuse, and marketing in our country.  

During one conversation, I fought her on it, saying I didn't think I was surrounded by all that much alcohol.

"Yes you are; everyone is, but it is hidden.  I hid it.  A lot of people hide it.  Or they don't even realize how much and how often they are actually drinking, or what drives them to drink."

I thought hard.  And I had to come to some difficult conclusions.  And I'm not just talking about for other people.  I'm talking about for my own self.  Once I started analyzing my own patterns, I saw in myself that I've tried to flee from my own problems before to a night of too much wine.  And in truth, it has never made anything better.  It only makes things worse.  

Up in the Alaskan frontier, people have become highly addicted to alcohol.  And just to loosen some lingering stereotypes, it should be mentioned that for the indigenous communities, many of their issues came with colonization, as it was not a part of their inherent, indigenous culture.  But the challenges of alcohol cross all cultural lines and it sees neither race or socioeconomic background when it creeps in.  And it becomes the precursor to rape, domestic violence, human trafficking, obesity, abuse, depression, unemployment and so much more.  But it is not just there.  It is here too.  It was like all of a sudden, alcohol had this systemic dark glow around it.  There is way more to it than the glass I might be enjoying on my couch.  There is an alcohol problem I had probably just been ignoring.  One that more of us need not to be ignoring.

My ongoing blog is titled "Points of Discomfort, Growth, and Grace" because that is just the cycle my life seems to take.  And on this particular trip to Alaska, I had further proof of that cycle.  I was discomforted to the point of growth, and in a way I hadn't expected.  I needed to grow in my understanding of alcohol and its effect on so many people around me, in my community, my country, and in our country's "Last Frontier," Alaska, where people are struggling with it at rates alarmingly high.

People are being hurt.

Lives are sometimes ruined.

This trip was seemingly about a bike, an act of kindness, a triathlon, but I knew, the longer I spoke with Tiffany, that two women, with 3,890 miles between them, had a lot more to talk about than a bike race.

I am deeply saddened by little girls being told to wear two pairs of jeans.

I am fueled and energized by the work of Recover Alaska, and Tiffany, fighting this incredible battle.

I am inspired to drink way less and to do more to unmask issues related to alcohol.

On my last day there, Tiffany showed me some recent pictures of Alaskan Native communities and how sobriety programs are helping lift spirits and open new ways of living.  I was so moved by these pictures, I wanted to share them with you:

Photo by Matthew Waliszek

Photo by Matthew Waliszek

At first thought, we might think that alcohol is not really affecting us much as a nation.

But then I look at these faces and realize these are people who need me to pay better attention, to get my ear closer to those crying out and my eyes open to the reality around me -even if it is a dark reality.  And I need to pay better attention because lives, futures, and justice for the innocent depend on me.

And you.

And all of us paying attention...

Whether it is up in the "Last Frontier," or in our own home.

Tiffany wants to make it loud and clear, that if you or someone you know, needs help, to courageously reach out for it.

Make the change.

Keep one less incident of domestic abuse off the books.

Keep a little girl safe.

Keep depression at bay.

And keep a loved one or yourself, from feeling like there is no way out.

Because there is a way out.  

And on the other side, there is a simple life full of zest, hope, faith, and love.

If you're interested in learning more about Recover Alaska, how to help, or in getting up to Alaska to experience the Last Frontier yourself, please reach out to me!  

Peace to You and Yours,

Annette