MidReal Story
Rhythm of Redemption: A Journey Through Music and Miles
Scenario: a drug addict finds connection and recovery through connection in music and running
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Mark Thompson
veteran runner who mentors Jamie, friend to both Jamie and Sarah, sturdy frame with a stern face, wise and disciplined.
Sarah Jennings
fellow runner and Jamie's confidante, friends with Jamie, athletic build with a warm smile, supportive and resilient.
Jamie Collins
struggling musician and drug addict, friends with Sarah and mentored by Mark, lean with tired eyes, creative yet selfdestructive.
The first time I met Sarah Jennings, I was high.
I was also running for my life.
I didn’t know it then, but that night would change everything for me.
It was a Friday, and I’d just finished playing a gig at a local bar.
I’d been playing music since I was a kid, and it was the only thing that made sense to me.
I’d spent the last few years playing in different bands, trying to make it big.
But the only thing I’d managed to do was get myself addicted to drugs.
I’d started using after a bad breakup with my girlfriend, and it had spiraled out of control from there.
I told myself that the drugs helped me be more creative, but the truth was they were slowly killing me.
After the gig ended, I went out back to smoke a joint with some of the other guys in the band.
We were all feeling good, and we decided to head over to this party we’d heard about in one of the nearby neighborhoods.
The party was already in full swing when we got there, and there were people everywhere.
We walked into the house and grabbed a beer, then headed down to the basement to check out the band that was playing.
They were setting up their gear, and I could see the lead singer getting ready to go on.
He was thin and wiry, with shaggy hair that fell into his eyes, and he was wearing a leather jacket and ripped jeans.
He had a bad boy look about him, and I knew the girls in the crowd would be eating it up.
I watched as he stepped up to the mic and started singing, his voice raw and powerful, filled with emotion.
He had this amazing stage presence, and he drew the audience in, making them feel every word of the songs he was singing.
And as I stood there watching him, I found myself wondering how I’d ended up in this dingy basement, playing for a crowd that didn’t give a shit about us.
I’d always wanted to be a musician, ever since I was a little kid.
My parents were both music teachers, and they’d encouraged me to follow my dreams and play whatever instrument I wanted.
And so I’d spent most of my life playing music, honing my craft and dreaming of making it big one day.
But as I got older and started trying to make my dream a reality, I’d slowly come to realize that the music business was a hard fucking place to be.
It was cutthroat and competitive, and it chewed people up and spit them out without a second thought.
I’d been trying to make it as a musician for years now, but all I had to show for it was a string of shitty gigs and a drug habit that was quickly getting out of control.
I used to believe that music had the power to heal, to connect people in ways that nothing else could.
But now it felt like just another way for me to chase the high I was always searching for.
The drugs had started out as a way for me to cope with the pressure, but they’d quickly become something that I needed in order to survive.
They helped me forget about all the pain and emptiness inside of me, at least for a little while.
They made me feel good when nothing else could, and they helped me be the person I wanted to be when I was on stage.
But deep down, I knew they were slowly killing me, breaking down every part of who I was until there was nothing left but an empty shell of the person I used to be.
I watched as the lead singer finished his set and walked off stage, high-fiving his bandmates on his way back.
The rest of the band was still playing their instruments, but I could see that they were starting to pack up their gear.
We’d come all this way to play one fucking song?
I wanted to go over to them and ask them why they were playing such a short set.
But I was so high that I couldn’t think straight, let alone form a coherent sentence.
The song ended a few seconds later, and I stumbled over to where the other guys in my band were standing.
“Why are we packing up our gear?Are we done?”
I asked them, my words slurring together.
“We’re done for tonight,” Josh said with a grin.
“But we fucking nailed it out there!I think those guys really liked us.”
My eyes widened in surprise.
“I thought we were only playing one song,” I said.
“We were,” he replied.
“But then Levi asked if we wanted to come back with them after the show.I think he wants us to join their band.”
“Seriously?”
I asked, feeling a surge of excitement.
“Yeah,” he said with a grin.
“He told me that he thinks we’re going to make it big.And he wants you there with him when it happens.”
Levi was the name of the lead singer who I’d been watching earlier.
He was one of those guys who was born to be a rock star, and he had a voice that could make girls fall to their knees.
He’d been singing and playing guitar since he was a teenager, and he’d put together a few different bands over the years.
But none of them had ever gone anywhere, and I could see the frustration in his eyes when he talked about the music business.
He wanted to be famous, to make a name for himself and his band.
And he was convinced that this was the band that was going to take him there.
He’d been talking about making it big for the last few years, but this was the first time I’d ever really believed him.
And for some reason, he wanted me to come along for the ride with him.
I’d always thought that I had what it took to make it, but over the past few months I’d started to doubt myself.
I’d been in so many bands and played so many shows, but nothing had ever come of it.
There were so many other talented musicians out there, and I was afraid that I wasn’t special enough to stand out from the rest.
I was afraid that I was destined to be just another person who’d tried and failed to make it in the music business.
But as I looked at Levi, his eyes filled with excitement and confidence, something inside of me stirred.
He was so sure that we were going to make it big.
And deep down, I wanted to believe him.
I wanted to believe that my dream was still possible, that all the years of hard work and sacrifice would pay off in the end.
“I’ll be there,” I told him with a grin.
“Fuck yeah you will,” he said, clapping me on the back.
“Because we’re going all the way to the top, man.And we’re going to take this fucking town with us.”
I wanted to believe.
I wanted to believe that we were going to be famous, that we were going to make it big one day.
But as we packed up our gear and loaded it into Levi’s SUV, doubts swirled in my mind like a storm cloud threatening to burst open at any moment.
We were all tired from the gig, but we were also excited about what the future held for us.
We joked around and laughed as we loaded everything into the back of the SUV, and for a few brief moments I didn’t feel like the weight of the world was pressing down on me.
And then it did.
We were all so young and full of hope when we first started playing together.
We’d all been friends since we were in high school, and we’d all been in bands before, but there was something different about this one.
We had a chemistry that none of our other bands ever had, and we all knew that we had something special.
People told us that we had a lot of potential, and we were all so sure that we were going to make it one day.
But that was more than ten years ago.
And here we were, all these years later, still playing in shitty bars and dive clubs, still struggling to make ends meet.
That hope and promise that we’d all held onto so tightly, that had fueled us for so many years, felt like a distant memory now.
The reality was that none of us had ever gone anywhere.
None of our bands had ever made it big, and none of us were any closer to achieving our dreams than we were ten years ago.
And as we loaded up our gear that night, I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, none of us ever would be.
It was a sobering thought.
The kind of thought that made me question every decision that I’d ever made in my life.
The kind of thought that made me wonder if maybe, just maybe, I’d been wrong about everything all along.
There had been so many opportunities for me to really go for it over the years, so many chances to put my music first and give it everything I had.
But for whatever reason, I’d never been able to do it.
I always found some excuse not to.
Some reason why I couldn’t put my music first.
Some reason why I couldn’t go after my dream with everything I had.
The truth was, I didn’t know if I would ever really be able to do it.
I didn’t know if I would ever really be able to give my music everything that I had.
I didn’t know if I was capable of being everything that I could be.
And I was afraid that if I couldn’t, then maybe it would be too late.
Maybe the time to make something of myself would pass me by.
Maybe my dream would never be anything more than just that.
A dream that was always just out of reach.
A dream that would never become a reality.
A dream that would always be just that: a dream.
I got home late that night and fell into bed without even bothering to shower.
I’d started drinking as soon as the show was over, and by the time we’d packed up all of our gear and loaded it into Levi’s SUV, I was already pretty drunk.
And now, hours later, the alcohol was starting to wear off and the drugs were starting to take effect.
It was enough to make me feel better again.
But it wasn’t enough to make me forget the doubts that still gnawed at me from the inside out.
It wasn’t enough to make me forget that my life wasn’t anything like what I’d once hoped it would be.
Not even close.
