The Other Side of a Dry January
Thirty one days without alcohol? Here’s why I wanted to try it, and ultimately, what I learned on the other side.
Blame the Holidays
Imagine for a moment: a platter of cheese, meat, crackers and toasts. A charcuterie spread fit for gods, mistakenly bestowed upon mortals. Add to this: little dishes of mustard and a bowl of cornichons. Something—anything—to break up all that richness for a moment so you can eat more. More. MORE!
Thirsty? I don’t blame you. Here’s a little wine to wash it down. Now some vodka. How about whiskey? Going too fast? Beer. Here is lots of beer.
Great party, right? I thought so … the first day.
This past Christmas we played out this night more times than I can recall. While visiting Pennsylvania for the holiday, every day brought a new group of family or friends together to celebrate. It was amazing, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Getting to spend solid chunks of time with people we care about and too-rarely see was invaluable. The only problem was …
By the fifth or sixth party in a row, Brian and I were starting to feel a little …
Off. Unwell … Bloated.
The sight of any number of smoked meat products immediately soured the stomach. And alcohol? Drinking alcohol became effort more than pleasure. Still, what is one to do in these familial situations?
Eat. Drink. Be Merry!
So we persisted, but by the day it was time to come home, I turned to Brian and said, “No more. All this meat and liquor has me dreaming of a booze-free, vegetarian January.”
“Great idea.” He laughed. He meant it.
And I meant it too. Back at home on New Year’s eve, we had one last hurrah! Turkey meatballs. Vodka and champagne. In the final hours of 2018 we stood together on a precipice, looking down into a verdant valley of health and wellness waiting just on the other side of midnight. The clock struck twelve. We raised our glasses, clinked and cheered, and took our last swallows …
In the Sober Light of Morning
Waking up hungover the next morning I was less confident. The idea still seemed great, but the execution? The would we be able to really do it? It’s amazing how daunting it seemed. There were two major problems:
The vegetarian thing. Yeah, I’m going to admit right here, we didn’t do it. Well … We mostly did it. I think we’ve had four dinners this month that included meat of any kind. But I still bought ham and turkey from the deli. A slice here for my morning omelette. A couple slices there for an afternoon sandwich. The problem is, I didn’t take the time to research thoroughly how to make sure we were getting enough protein, and I had enough on my proverbial plate that I wasn’t willing to devote the time, yet.
The other problem? Alcohol. As a ritual.
I am fortunate to have never developed a physical dependency on alcohol, but I’ll admit: I drink often. Almost every night. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It isn’t to excess. It’s one glass of something. Doesn’t matter what. Hard alcohol, wine, or beer. It’s all the same. It’s the act of sipping that matters. It’s one glass, and then bed.
Though … on the weekends it’s usually more. Alcohol is social lubricant, even in situations where we’re already entirely comfortable. I can’t remember the last time (before this month) Brian and I spent an evening with friends and alcohol wasn’t involved. For the two of us, alcohol is ritual. It’s what you do. In social situations, it is as natural as breathing.
This was going to be the tough part: breaking the ritual, forming new habits. With friends. Out to dinner. Home alone at night.
“Do you … still want to try this?” I asked.
Brian shook his head at the hesitation in my voice. “Yes.”
It was all the answer I needed.
The View From the Other Side
If I told you what an extraordinary struggle this last month has been—that there were nights I held a half-empty bottle of vodka and saw my soul reflected in the glass urging me not to take a drink—it might make for a better story. But I’d be doing two things:
I’d be lying, and I’d be paying a horrible disservice to those who struggle with real, debilitating alcoholism. I’ve seen what that can do to a person. I’ve lost someone to the disease, and I do not in any way take it for granted that I can say this was easy. This was no problem at all. For that I’m both lucky, and grateful.
And remarkably, that is the truth. Perhaps it’s because I wanted so badly to say I could do this, but ordering soda water at a restaurant was easy. Sipping juice or tea while our friends enjoyed a bottle of wine was a non-issue. Alone at night I filled a water bottle and went to bed earlier.
And the weekends? Where Brian and I might blow through a Saturday night swimming through glasses of wine, we found that without the sour grapes, time moved a lot slower. Suddenly the weekends were longer. You can’t tell me for a minute that is a bad thing.
I’ve had so much more energy. I’ve been quicker. Sharper. And of course, the dietary changes (which deserve a blog post of their own) have had an impact. We’ve eaten our way through pots of beet borscht, vegan celery and corn chowder, black bean chili, lentils upon lentils, creole okra stew, stunning winter salads, and even a vibrant vegan paella.
I’ve lost eight pounds since the new year started. And I still eat a pastry every day. Every. Single. Day.
This is all to say …
I just have to look back at that trepidation I felt on January 1st and laugh. And if we can do this for one month …
Why Not Continue?
Listen, since this post has a lot to do with honesty, I’m just going to admit up-front: This weekend (the first in February) is going to involve wine. Not a bucket. Not a box. Maybe a bottle between the two of us. I really enjoy alcohol. I love the complex flavors that result from fermentation and distillation. But if this dry January has taught me anything, it’s that I can enjoy alcohol without needing it.
Moderation is the key here. If I can go an entire month without, why ever go back to drinking every day? If I can feel healthy and happy eating a small portion of meat only a few times a week, why feel a need to have it at every meal?
This month has been about a reset, not pulling the plug. But standing here on the other side, things have booted up so nice and clean, I think maybe we’ll try to keep them that way, at least a while longer.
Share your thoughts! If you made a New Years resolution, where do you stand with it today? Have you ever tried a dry January? How do you keep yourself on-track when trying to achieve a challenging personal goal? Let me know in the comments below.
Thanks as always for reading,
Gregory
