November 1st, 2025
Ten years ago today, I woke up in my own bed with no memory of how I got there.
I’d blacked out the night before at a friend’s house while watching the Seahawks play the Cowboys. I’d been drinking — nothing unusual. That was just what I did. What I’d always done.
But this time was different.
Before I even opened my eyes, I heard a voice in my head. Clear as day. It told me I wouldn’t survive another day like that one.
I got out of bed and got sick in the bathroom — proof I’d gone too hard, even for someone with my tolerance. My wife made sure I understood exactly how badly I’d messed up during my blackout. How I’d mistreated her. How I’d been a terrible example for my kids. All in front of our friends.
She also told me that if it ever happened again, we were done.
I spent the next two days working through the worst hangover of my life. And somewhere in the fog of that misery, I made a decision.
I was done drinking.
That was November 1st, 2015. I haven’t had a drink since.
How I Got Here
I started drinking as a teenager. I wanted to be a rockstar, and drinking felt like part of the identity. It made me more social. More accepted. The more I could drink, the more I felt like I belonged.
In my twenties, I started a family. A six pack of tall boys after work became my reward for a hard day. On weekends, I’d drink more — because hey, it’s the weekend. The bands I played in had pre-show shot rituals. The culture was alcohol-centric. Everyone drank. It was just what we did.
I didn’t think it was a problem. I actually loved it. Drinking was part of who I was. Afterall, the party didn’t really start until I got there with a case of beer or a bottle of rum.
I knew my wife wanted to me to quit and for some reason that made me hit the gas even harder. I stubbornly claimed to never stop drinking. It was my prime directive. Until the day I was faced with the facts of what kind of person I was vs. the person I knew I should be for my family.
What Sobriety Looked Like
Early sobriety was scary and awkward.
I still had obligations to play with my bands at bars. Holiday parties with friends. Social situations where everyone else was drinking and I wasn’t. People treated me like an alien for refusing alcohol. They didn’t understand.
Refusing the drink itself wasn’t hard — I’d made up my mind, and I wasn’t going back. But figuring out how to exist in the world without alcohol to loosen me up? That was the challenge. I had to relearn how to be social. How to be comfortable in my own skin. Who I even was without a drink in my hand.
But on the other side of that awkwardness, something shifted.
My drumming got better. I spent less money. I had more energy. I was more motivated. More ambitious. I started thinking about what I actually wanted to do with my life instead of just coasting through it.
A couple years later, through much trial and error, that’s when Radius Drums was born.
Why Radius Exists
If I was still drinking, I’d probably be dead. Or at least divorced. At best, my life would’ve stayed exactly the same — stagnant, stuck, scrounging for change to buy cheap beer.
Radius Drums wouldn’t exist.
I figured if I was going to be addicted to something, it should improve my life instead of ruining it. Building drums came out of a need to keep busy. To find purpose. I’d always played drums, and I’d always loved woodworking, so it felt like a natural fit. But more than that, it gave me something to pour myself into. Something to create. Something that mattered.
Sobriety gave me clarity. It gave me drive. It gave me the ability to actually follow through on an idea instead of just talking about it over another beer. And believe me, the satisfaction of creating a beautiful musical instrument from scratch is a far greater feeling than any level of intoxication I’ve ever experienced.
Every drum I build is proof that I made the right choice ten years ago. And I’m proud to say that I continue to try and make my drums and myself better every day.
What I Want You to Know
I’m not sharing this to preach or to make anyone feel bad about drinking. That’s not the point.
I’m sharing it because Radius Drums exists because I made a hard decision to change my life. And if you’re reading this and you’re struggling with something — addiction, stagnation, feeling stuck — I want you to know that change is possible.
It’s not easy. Early sobriety was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. The issues that I had been drowning for years did not go away. I had to face them and clean up my mental space. But it was also the best decision I’ve ever made.
Addiction doesn’t have to be permanent. You don’t have to stay stuck. If I can get my shit together, so can you.
Ten years ago, I woke up in a bad place. Today, I’m building custom snare drums in my shop, working toward making this my full-time gig, and raising my family in a way I’m proud of.
That wouldn’t have been possible if I hadn’t put down the bottle.
Thank You
To my wife: Thank you for not giving up on me, even when you had every reason to.
To my kids: I’m sorry for the times I wasn’t the dad you deserved. I’m doing my best to be better every day.
To everyone who’s supported Radius Drums: You’re part of this journey, whether you know it or not. Every drum I sell, every message I get, every person who believes in what I’m building — it means more than you know.
And to anyone out there who’s struggling: You don’t have to do it alone. Reach out. Ask for help. Make the hard choice.
It’s worth it.
Here’s to ten years. And to a life without regret.
— Kenny Sprague
Radius Drums
Port Orchard, WA
If you or someone you know is struggling with addiction, there is help available. You don’t have to do this alone.
- SAMHSA National Helpline: 1-800-662-4357 (free, confidential, 24/7)
- AA (Alcoholics Anonymous): aa.org
- SMART Recovery: smartrecovery.org