What's your poison?

I am currently participating in a ‘dryathalon’. One month without booze. This is not the first time I have partaken in such an event. Last summer, In June I decided that enough was enough and my body needed a break. I’d been to long-weekend upon long-weekend of weddings (4 in total), birthday parties (my own included), close colleagues’ leaving parties and numerous mid-week impromptu dalliances. Now don’t get me wrong, I loved the party season, but there’s only so many white wine headaches and fry-ups that one can take before one starts to feel the negative physical effects. I made it to one month tee-total. And I will do it again now. Today is day 21 of the challenge and I must say that so far it’s been a relative doddle. That is not to say that I haven’t missed a large goblet of merlot to accompany my hearty winter dinners, nor have I found it easy to ignore the craving for an ice-cold beer to wash down my Friday night curry. But on the whole, it’s been a breeze. One cunning coping method that I have devised is to replicate the delicious sensation of a perfectly executed gin & tonic. A can of ice-cold Schweppes tonic water draped over ice with a slide of lime makes for the perfect substitute. Some people may think of it as a weakness that I have to create a faux-alcoholic drink in order to get through the 4 weeks. And maybe it is weak. This is what got me thinking about the bigger picture. My attitude towards alcohol has definitely changed over the last few years. Arguably, the fact that I work for a global alcohol company has made me more tuned into the wider debate about alcohol responsibility, the role of booze in our society & its culture-shaping properties. I have found people’s reactions to my challenge most curious too. The majority of people in my social, work and family circle I have told have reacted with surprise and shock. They simply couldn’t seem to understand that I would want to avoid alcohol for a month, not for medical, political or religious reasons, but simply just ‘because’. It got me thinking about motivation. What makes a person do, (and equally NOT do), something? I have never been a particularly self-disciplined person, having never been on a diet or lasted more than 6 months as a member of a gym. However, I know that I will complete this challenge because I WANT to. More than I WANT that delicious glass of Montepulciano. I can be very stubborn when I want to be; mind over matter. At the age of 26 I have been a part of the alcoholic sphere for twelve years. I’d say I’m very well versed in the negative effects of alcohol – the falls, the cuts & bruises, the banging headaches, the inevitable nausea, the wasted money, the shame of recollecting what you said/did the night before, the slow rebuilding of a reputation. But let’s be clear – overwhelmingly, alcohol has formed a positive part in my life. Wine; red in particular, in my view is one of life’s simplest pleasures. The warm, spicy sensation when the liquid hits your tongue. That moment when it creeps down into your legs and reaches your toes creating a relaxation crescendo. The taste, the aroma, even the sight of the velvety liquid swirling around a sparkling clean glass is enough to switch my mood from furious to blissful. (Naturally, this exercise should be accomanied by a slither of crumbly, mature cheddar cheese. Mmmmmm). And what about Champagne? It doesn’t even have to be real Champagne – I’m talking Cava, Prosecco – those beautiful little gaseous spheres of giggly-gleeful pleasure! Yes alcohol can be an evil; but it is also a source of pure pleasure for many. So coming back to my original point, wouldn’t you say it’s OK that I want to ‘fake’ the stimuli of a ‘pretend G&T’, simply because of the emotional pleasure it brings me to associate with the feelings of the real thing? Surely, it’s as healthy (mentally at least) as a person who goes to the gym religiously, purely because of the endorphin-rush they feel at the end of a good work out? I feel strongly that people fall into two categories – those whose lives are led by their body and those whose lives are led by their mind. So what do you think? Why has alcohol become such an integral part of adult life, so much so that when someone chooses not to participate, it is considered unusual? We call it a poison, but maybe it’s more of a placebo. What we make of alcohol and its effects on our senses is far more open to interpretation that perhaps we first thought.