You didn’t see me mention this goal in my recent resolutions column, because I didn’t think I could do it (still not sure), and saying it publicly would make me too accountable for comfort.
Resolutions, after all, are supposed to be realistic.
A Dryuary* – in this house!? – impossible.
*Dryuary = dry January.
But, because 2016 was both a celebratory year for our family (three graduations and two weddings) and a tough one (for pretty much everyone), and we got through it all with a little too much help from Sean’s wine cellar, on January 1, I said “enough.”
And, because the only way I was going to be successful was to enlist Sean too, I held him down and made him say it, too.
Giving up wine for a month doesn’t make you very popular. The reactions from family and friends included:
“Ugh, good luck with that.”
“That sounds like the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”
Our goal is not only to test our will but to give our body a much-needed monthly break from the nightly wine habit. Hopefully, we’ll also gain some perspective that will help us cut back and enjoy, er tolerate, wine-free nights during the rest of the year.
So, here we are nine days and nights into Dryuary, and Sean and I have both held firm. Nine days. That includes a weekend, folks. A weekend in which we hosted a small dinner party and had to open and pour wine – for other people!
It’s been hard ya’ll. Really hard.
I get that nine days doesn’t seem like very long, but when you live with a wine collector and diet saboteur, and you have made drinking wine one of your evening rituals, it is an eternity. And, at about 6 or 7 p.m., it is pure hell.
Our dinner routine is now completely altered. Instead of lingering at the dinner table with another glass or two of wine, we eat rather quickly, run to the bathroom to brush our teeth, then hide under the covers.
We’ve also become anti-social, telling friends we’d take a raincheck to go out to dinner. In February. Admittedly, we don’t feel like good company.
Sean’s less convinced, but I can already see the merits. I’m sleeping so much better. And in the morning, I feel not only feel better, but lighter. My head is clear, the bloat is gone, and I’m so much stronger during my workouts.
But then it’s 6 p.m. again.
I’ll keep you posted. You keep us in your prayers.
Happy February! So how’d we do?
Well, let’s just say we were mostly dry- we had vino 22.5% of the month or 7 out of 31 days, and I can’t decide if it’s hilarious or frightening that I actually calculated a percentage. We had planned to jump off the wagon while traveling in Mexico City for a night and New Orleans for two nights (life’s too short to skip wine at John Besh’s August) so that was expected. But, we did cave three nights here at home (you’ve got to admit, it’s been a tough month). Then, my sister had to go and throw herself a 50th birthday party this past weekend, and because we’re anything but party poopers…
But in our eyes and given our history, we did really well. We’re feeling not just proud, but great. We both lost a few pounds and inches and gained quite a bit of perspective. Who knew it was possible to have a nice dinner at home without wine (going out to dinner without wine is still not an option)? I can cook without a glass of wine to keep me company, and I no longer wait for the clock to strike 6 p.m. before yelling “babe! it’s wine o’clock!” We can go a few days – eleven in a row even! – without drinking. Yay to us and pleasant mornings!
The entire experience has given us resolve to cut back on our nightly wine habit, and we’re now determined to limit our drinking to 3 or 4 nights a week as we move forward. It’s progress, folks. Major progress.
To celebrate our achievement, I bought a pair of socks to mark the beginning of February and the rest of the year. Cheers, ya’ll!