Nine Years Sober: Running Toward Transformation

By: Doug Fingliss

Today, February 9th, 2025, I celebrate 9 years of continuous sobriety!

How It Used to Be

A little over nine years ago, I hit my rock bottom. My body was failing, my mind was consumed by racing thoughts and anxiety, and the light of my soul was extinguished. Doing hard things was not a part of my life. I always took the easy route. Everything was darkness.

At my heaviest, I weighed around 350 pounds (I stopped weighing myself after I saw 331), my liver was failing from cirrhosis, and my body and lungs were filling with fluid from ascites. I lay propped up in a hospital bed. I couldn’t lay flat because of the fluid in my lungs. I was going through the DTs despite the IV Ativan. Fear sobered me for a bit but addiction isn’t defeated by fear alone.

Months later, I found myself right back in the bottle of vodka, lying to myself and everyone around me, eventually arguing with an ER doctor over a blood alcohol test while my parents looked on, exhausted and heartbroken. “There must be something wrong with that test, doc. There’s no way it’s so high - I didn’t have anything to drink today.”

That was my moment of clarity.

Something inside me shifted. The realization that I had a huge problem I couldn’t solve. This was a gift: the gift of desperation.

That gift has brought me here—nine years later, stronger, healthier, and more alive than I ever imagined possible.

From Despair to Hope

Recovery wasn’t just about quitting drinking; it was about rebuilding myself from the ground up. Sobriety has been my rebirth, a process of rediscovering who I truly am. In early sobriety, I had to learn patience, tolerance, kindliness, and love—not just toward others, but toward myself. The old me would’ve laughed at the idea that my relationship with a higher power and my sobriety would become the most important things in my life. But without them, I have nothing.

I never want to forget where I came from and that pain. I was broken physically, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally.

The Role of Running in My Recovery

When I first got sober, I was huge. Working the steps of AA gave me a desire to change and grow as a human. I tried to eat better and, as I began to heal physically, I walked. Some of those early walks I was carrying an oxygen tank with me and they were short. As the year progressed I walked and I walked and I walked a lot. I lost about 100 lbs just walking.

The transformation Tuesday when I hit 100 lbs lost in 2017!

One day, a mysterious voice in my head (the higher power in all of us) suggested I see if I could run from telephone pole to telephone pole. I had never run before. I found peace in that movement. At first, it was just a way to move my body and clear my head. Then, it became a passion. And eventually, it became a way to transform myself, one step at a time and one mile at a time.

Running—and now ultrarunning—has given me something alcohol never could: true freedom. The discipline, the endurance, the willingness to suffer in pursuit of something greater—they’re all lessons that parallel my journey in sobriety. When I’m out on the road or the trails, I feel alive. I feel connected to something bigger than myself. And with every step, I put more distance between the person I was and the person I am today.

The Four Pillars of Sobriety and Fitness

Through recovery and running, I’ve come to understand that true transformation doesn’t just happen on the physical level. It happens across four essential pillars:

1. Physical Fitness

My body was destroyed at the end of my drinking days. Sobriety gave me the chance to rebuild it. Running, strength training, and yoga have helped me not only regain my health but thrive. There was a time when running a single mile seemed impossible. Now, I run for hours, pushing my body to limits I never thought I’d reach.

2. Mental Fitness

Addiction is a battle of the mind. Even after the alcohol was gone, the self-doubt, self-loathing, fear, and anxiety remained. Running has helped me train my mind to endure, to sit with discomfort, and to find peace in hard things. My friend Cat and I always remind each other “move a muscle, change a thought.” Meditation, therapy, and the 12 steps have also played a huge role in rewiring the way I think.

3. Spiritual Fitness

For me, spirituality isn’t about religion—it’s about connection, purpose, and gratitude. Whether it’s the stillness of a sunrise run, the bliss of depletion crossing a finish line, or the cleansing sweat of a hot yoga class, I’ve found a deeper connection to not only my own soul, but the world, through movement. The program of AA has also taught me that surrendering to something greater than myself isn’t a sign of weakness—it’s a source of strength. It is the ultimate connection to the flow state.

4. Emotional Fitness

Before sobriety, I dulled all emotions in the oblivion of the bottle. Now, I face them. I still don’t understand them all but I’m a continuous work in progress. Running has become an activity where I process my trauma, grief, stress, and even joy (the positive emotions can still be the hardest for me to feel). I continue to work in therapy and meditation at not fully suppressing emotions and letting them move through me. I long for the day I am able to shed tears during a long run or feel pure elation at a race finish and I’m slowly putting in the work to get there. Sobriety has taught me that emotions aren’t something to escape—they’re proof that I’m alive.

Huge Outrageous Goals

Nine years ago, I was barely surviving. Today, I’m beyond thriving and in the best shape of my adult life. My involvement with Recovery Road Runners has brought me such amazing opportunities to give back.

This year, amongst a number of other goals, I’m taking on two epic ultrarunning challenges with my friend Joe Hardin to raise awareness and funds for Recovery Road Runners in support of addiction recovery. We’re running across the entire state of Rhode Island in March and across the entire state of Indiana in August, pushing our limits not just for ourselves, but for those still struggling. Change is possible.

Donation Link for the epic runs of Joe and I this year in support of Recovery Road Runners and addiction recovery!

One thing (of many) I’ve learned in these nine years is that sobriety isn’t about what you lose. It’s very much about what you gain. Strength. Clarity. Connection. And the ability to chase down the wildest, craziest dreams imaginable. Huge outrageous goals!!

If you’re struggling, know this: It is never too late to change. Your past does not have to define your future. There is always hope. There is a way out. And on the other side of that darkness and pain, there is a life beyond your wildest dreams.

Here’s to another year of running toward transformation!