Plant based triathlete
Recovering addict
MY STORY
Sunday July 7th - 2019 - I felt a high like no other. Nothing could have wiped the smile from my face. The blood was pumping in my body and my heart was beating out of my chest. I had never felt anything like it before. Nothing else mattered right in that very moment. I felt free.
Crossing the finish line of my very first marathon in under 3 hours... 2 hours, 58 minutes and 41 seconds to be exact. I never doubted I could do it but it was at that exact moment it all became real. Everything I had worked towards was cemented in front of me. All morning people had been calling out my name, cheering me on from the side line. Some were people I had never met but maybe we had crossed paths on social media. For the first time in my life I felt a sense of belonging. This was exactly where I was meant to be. These were my people.
All my life I have never really felt like I fitted in. Growing up I often felt lost, without direction. I never had goals and never seemed to find a place where I felt I belonged.
Since getting clean and becoming involved in triathlons/running I have made true friendships for the first time in my life. I have meaningful conversations with people about positive things, and for the first time in my life I feel genuine happiness being surrounded by good people. We all have similar goals and common interests.
The first time I left home I was 11 years old. My mum remarried when I was 5 and I never got along with my step dad. I have 3 younger step brothers who I love dearly. My step father and I would argue about everything and over time, things escalated so much I found more comfort on the streets.
The street was different ... exciting at first.
There were no rules, no one watching over me and I was free to roam all hours of the night. I could escape from the abusive arguments at home. My mum got sick of me coming and going, plus my behaviour was getting worse. I was starting to fall off the rails which ended up with mum sending me to live with dad in Sydney.
I spent 6 years growing up in Sydney, living with my dad. Although not all of the memories are happy ones, I still always remember feeling like that was my closest family. My nan would always have all of my uncles and cousins over every Sunday and we would all be together. My dad has been a heroin addict my entire life and still lives a dysfunctional life. He and 2 of my 3 uncles have all been in and out of jail all my life. In Sydney, I was allowed to do whatever I wanted because dad obviously had his own stuff going on and was in active addiction, everyday. I would hang with the housing commission kids that lived in the same flats as us. By 12, I was addicted to cigarettes and would buy a packet every 2 days. All the kids came from similar backgrounds so we all seemed to understand each other. I went back and forth between Sydney and the Sunshine Coast as my behaviour was worsening and either my mum or dad had had enough.
By 13, I was considered out of control. I was arrested at a train station on the Sunshine Coast for having a fight with one of my friends and the police took me to my mum’s house. Mum refused to let me stay with her any longer so I went to a youth house - for kids off the streets. The place was riddled with drugs. Within the first 24 hours, I smoked weed. The “safe” house is where I tried amphetamines for the first time. I used every day for 6 months, meeting a group of 18 year olds that also roamed the streets. We would break into cars and steal to pay for more drugs. I was the youngest in the group but that didn’t matter. They all used amphetamines and smoked weed ... age didn’t matter. After 6 months I was fully hooked on ice and would stay awake for days on end. I was arrested in a stolen car and again, the police took me back to my mum’s house. This time she let me stay and sober up there.
Before long, I was running away again so she sent me back to live with dad. Having no stable home and no formal schooling was taking its toll.
The photo above is one I am not proud of but it reminds me of how far I have come.
I was 15 when I went to the juvenile detention centre for the first time. Cobham Juvenile Centre. I remember feeling so scared arriving at the gates. After all, it was the unknown. I knew that my behaviour and the crimes I had been committing would eventually land me in prison, however this was my first time so to say I was scared was an understatement. I knew a few kids who had been there so my plan was just to look for a familiar face. My time at Cobham Juvenile Centre is something I will never forget. I was one of the only Caucasian kids in there and the racism was relentless. I use to cry myself to sleep. I don’t know why that wasn’t enough to scare me off ever returning to prison.
This began a really repetitive and nasty cycle for me. I wouldn’t usually spend long on the outside ... the minute I was free I would be back on drugs and involved in crime again. I would breach my parole order and be sent back to prison. They say prison is like a revolving door. Once you’re caught up in the system it’s hard to escape. I have been on some sort of corrections order since I was 17.
Addiction becomes involuntary. I am sure most addicts don’t want to continue using, however if you don’t have a purpose or you don’t feel good about yourself, it’s easy to stick with what you know. By then, addiction is all that you know. It’s an every day, all consuming thing. It manipulates every one of your thoughts and everything you do revolves around it.
By the time I was in my late 20s, I had decided that this was the only life for me. In and out of jail. Constantly chasing my addiction. Every time I arrived at the prison gates I had a choice to get clean. I could have used my time in there to reflect and make sure I didn’t make the same mistakes again. Instead, I would talk with other inmates and we would discuss hitting the streets and getting back on it.
My belief is that 80% of the prison population has no intention on changing their lifestyle. There are not many programs or resources that help you integrate back into society. That makes things hard when you have burnt all your bridges in the past. With the QLD prison population currently housing around 6000 men, it is hard for resources to be spread out. If you do get the opportunity to go to a half way house or a rehab, often they are filled with people who are already back in addiction. I thought there was no hope for me. I had nothing good going for me on the outside and so I treated prison like my home. Every time I went to prison I stopped using ice. I would still take prescription medication if I could get my hands on it ... that would numb the reality of where I had ended up, yet again. Prison is very regimented and you are forced into a very strict routine. You get locked in your cell at the same time every night. Dinner is 4:30pm sharp, every day. I guess they are trying to restore you to some sort of normality through a routine. I used my time to eat, train and try to stay healthy. Every week, you could buy chocolate, chips, lollies and a range of unhealthy snacks. I would be one of the few that would spend all my money on green tea and almonds 😂
Any time we were allowed access to the oval most people would go and play a game of footy. I would spend the hour just running laps. When we returned to the unit, I would either run up and down the stairs or do other work outs in the yard. Most of my days would involve exercising. It was the only thing I knew that could keep my mind strong, blocking out the reality of what was in front of me. Prison is a lonely place. No one ever visited me. I am extremely close with my nan, on my mum’s side and I would call her every week. She would send me money and to this day, has never turned her back on me. Although she would never let me stay at her house, she would always be there to listen and never seemed to give up. I see my nan more like a second mum. She has been my rock through some of the toughest times in my life.
I met Hannah on the day of my 27th birthday. It was actually my first birthday out of prison since I was 17. She told me her favourite number was 27. Call it fate but I believe our souls were meant to meet that day. From the first conversation, we knew we would always be together, and we will. The first few years were tough and our relationship was very on again, off again. Nothing is easy in addiction. Once my crimes caught up with me, I again went to prison - for 9 months this time.
Just 2 weeks before that, we found out Hannah was pregnant. Not knowing how long I was going to go away had a big impact on my mental health. I met my son Luka for the first time when he was 11 days old. I was released 10 days after he was born. Although I was not there to see him enter the world, I am grateful I didn’t lose much time with him in the beginning.
June 11 2017, was the last day I walked out of prison. I was released on bail to go to a rehabilitation centre - so the first 6 months of Luka’s life I spent every night away from him. I felt like it was tearing me apart not being there but maybe this helped strengthen my mind. Life throws obstacles at you to test your patience and to build your character. I wasn’t going to allow anything to break me. If I left the rehab I would have been sent back to prison. The door was there but I knew I couldn’t walk out.
Being in a rehab where my son and my partner were just around the corner and there were no gates and barbed wire fences stopping me leaving, it was tough. I was determine to never use drugs again and I sure as hell was never going back to prison. Six months later my sentencing date came around and my lawyer told me I could potentially go back to prison for two years. The six months in rehab was the longest I had been sober in the community since I was 13. Hannah, my mother in-law Vicky and Little Luka were all in the court room. Every other time I had faced a magistrate, I had been sent to prison. This time, I was applauded for the changes I had made and the things I had put in place to assist me in my recovery. I was given two years Parole and free to go home to my family. I will never be able to explain the feelings of happiness I felt hearing those words. Not long after leaving rehab, Hannah and I found out we were going to have another baby. In September 2018, my little girl Miley was born. This time, I was there to see her born and finally, our family was complete.
It was also time to start walking-the-walk. Hannah’s parents had made it clear that they wanted little to do with me, unless I could prove I was truly sober.
Understandably, they only had their daughter’s best interests at heart.
There was no way they would have accepted me if I had of continued using drugs - and I knew it.
But they gave me the chance I was seeking.
This was the turning point for me. I knew Hannah was my soul mate and in order to make things work, I wanted to be able to have a relationship with her parents too. Despite my past, Warwick and Vicky treated me respectfully and never judged.
I will never have enough words to explain the guidance and support they have shown me over the last two years.
They have helped me learn who I really am.
Warwick races age group Ironman and Vicky does running and gym.
Throughout my sober life, they have been kind to me and listened without judgement. I will never truly be able to thank them.
Iron man and long distance running had always intrigued me so as I got to know Warwick, I learned that the sport attracted people from all walks of life.
I find it fascinating exploring how far your mind can be pushed. It’s completely off limits to put yourself through pain for 8+ hours, non stop ... and so it becomes a mind game. After years and years in and out of prison I know my mind is strong. It would take a lot to break me. When I left rehab, I bought myself a cheap time trial bike and began cycling and learning more about triathlons. I had never swam laps in a pool and swimming is my least favourite of the three disciplines. In fact, I dread going to the pool.
I have since competed in a few sprint distance triathlons and won my age group for the QLD Duathlon title in 2018. I qualified for the world championships in Spain however, due to my parole conditions I am not allowed to apply to leave the country until April 2020.
Recently, I raced in Port Macquarie half iron man and plan on doing the full distance Ironman at Cairns next year.
The running and triathlon community is powerful. I used to be nervous thinking people would judge me because of my tattoos. The opposite. People shook my hand and would usually just talk about racing, bikes and upcoming events.
No one asked about my past or where I had come from. Slowly, I began to feel like I fitted in.
Standing on the side line of events and watching other people race, being out on the field racing - the whole atmosphere seems to draw you in. It’s contagious. Once I had done one race, I straight away began searching for my next challenge. People had told me that marathons were often harder than iron man. I began training for the GC marathon 10 weeks out from the race. I would run regularly with a group who were all aiming to get 3 hours or under. I knew it was going to be tough but I had faced harder things in my life. Surely, this couldn’t be too hard. 8000+ people all chasing the same dream. Standing at the start line, I knew that was exactly where I was meant to be. I was myself. This was me. I was truly happy.
Hannah, our kids, Warwick and Vicky were all there to support me. I remember every kilometre of the race. When it started to hurt I reminded myself why I am here and how I got here. I think of my kids when I am running as they have given me strength beyond words. Everything I do now, I do to make them proud.
Hannah and I had a conversation recently and she told me that in order to learn to forgive myself for some of the things I have done, and to hopefully receive forgiveness from others, I must never make the same mistakes again. Now that I am in a position where I feel confident enough to share my story, I hope I can find forgiveness by helping others. Not everyone makes it out of addiction. Some never make it out alive. I have lost many friends to drugs and it easily could have taken my life. The most important thing was finding a purpose. Finding somewhere I felt I belonged.
Standing here today, I feel confident I will never look back.
That life is behind me. I never in my wildest dreams imagined I would make it here. I am two years free from ice addiction and the happiest I have ever been. On April 2020, my parole ends and I will officially be free. It will be the first time in 15 years that I will be off all court orders. Nothing can stop me now.
Thank you for taking the time to read my story. It is true when people say that anything is possible, you just have to take the first step. Even in my darkest days, I hoped one day things would be better ... and now they finally are. As long as I live the second half of my life better than the first, I will be grateful.
Luke Lythgoe
15/07/19
