Dry Jan, RED Jan, NEW YAH NEW ME Jan… We always associate January with change. With being better. Improving ourselves. We put a lot of focus into drawing up resolutions like ‘I’ll spend less time on social media’ and ‘I’ll eat healthily in January’ – I mean, that’s the perfect excuse to eat doubly-unhealthily over Christmas, right? I’m not necessarily into fresh starts, per say – I’m more a believer that you should change something when you want to change something, why wait? – but I understand the incentive behind a focus for the next year. In my case, I left 2020 behind knowing that whatever I drank in December would be cancelled out through Dry January. Almost like having a fat slice of chocolate cake and balancing it out with an apple. And a pear. The past year threw a whole load of curve-balls, and I’ve just added my own to the list.
To spend 10 weeks in Tanzania with Raleigh International (2019) I had to agree to abstain from alcohol. Living in an incredibly rural village made this slightly easier than I thought; after all, the work we were doing and the conditions of the trip didn’t really lend themselves to having a big blow-out (though I often found my mind wandering to the thought of a chilled beer, condensation dripping off the bottle, as the daily temperature consistently reached the mid-30s…). I handled the 70 days or so well, but I swore I would never do it again. The airline didn’t know what hit it as 50 or so Brits took full advantage of the inclusive mini bar on the flight home – who knew you didn’t need full-sized bottles of wine to have fun? I felt that 10 weeks of sobriety gave me a golden ticket to brags-ville and a lifetime of never having to commit to giving up alcohol (I did 10 weeks, don’t you know?). Yet here I am, just over a year later, having ‘completed’ my first ever dry January.
Alcohol Concern UK coined the idea of a ‘dry’ January way back in 2013; since, thanks to a combination of their campaigning and yearly highlights by the BBC and The Independent, millions now participate in dry Jan each year. Some members of my family decided to do it this year so I thought I’d give it a go too. It was a tactical move, of course – come on guys, if you’re going to put yourself through it, do it during a time when you quite literally cannot go out. There were other reasons too, of course:
1. A sense of focus and achievement. It makes it sound problematic to say I saw dry January as a ‘challenge’ – let me explain. Firstly, I’m very competitive, so my ‘will not not give up’ mindset was in place from the beginning. Cheating yourself is the worst – I wasn’t going to let myself down. Secondly, a glass of wine at the end of the working week (Wednesday is almost the end, right?) or a couple of beers with a curry on a Saturday night are both pretty familiar to me. I’d say there was a definite element of needing some willpower – I avoided curries throughout January.
2. I’m a young(ish!) woman approaching 25 and so I was obviously also vainly intrigued to see if it would change my body/appearance. Would my skin be glowing? Lines gone? My tummy flat? Would I wake up one morning, my bedroom flooded in light, birds chirping away, to discover of a whole new and purer version of myself? (Okay, let’s not get that carried away…) Ultimately, there was a big element of ‘what ifs?’ – would I really drop a dress size? I’ve read my fair share of the thousands of articles out there that state the benefits of sobriety and the science behind them – I wanted to know if the propaganda was true. (And WHAT if it was?!)
3. We’re in a pandemic – did you know? – and I’ve found that some days I really needed that G&T (a double) to take the edge off. Or five. Have you ever done a Zoom quiz sober? This reason was probably the one with the most weight; in a year where our emotions have taking one hell of a ride on the Coronacoaster, I found I was getting a bit angsty having a drink at home. I actively do not drink when I’m feeling sad or low or angry… Three emotions that have been a bit more present in recent months than usual. Drinking is fun when there’s people, an atmosphere – that glass of wine whilst watching The Crown alone on a Friday evening doesn’t quite cut the same. Last summer, even though we were all trapped at home, when the sun shone down and the roads smelt of BBQs it was a bit different – the setting literally screamed Pimm’s o’clock. But as the colder and darker winter months drew in – alongside further instructions to be in lockdown but not be in lockdown – the novelty of a few house drinks soon wore off, for me at least. Even a couple of drinks started to give me a groggy head, and I started to wonder what the point was.
It’s funny really, I used to always harp on at people who had done dry Jan exclaiming ‘but HOW?’ and ‘WHY?’ and ‘what on earth made you do that?!’. Don’t get me wrong, I think I’d have struggled a lot more – scrap that, I would have not done it entirely – if life were ‘normal’; I only need to hear the words ‘bottomless brunch’ and I’m halfway there. Current restrictions have actually benefited me (for once!) and I can now be one of those annoyingly proud people that struts around exclaiming that I did it – and people can ask me ‘but HOW?’ and ‘WHY?’. Where do I get my certificate?
Have I noticed any changes? I wish I had a more convincing ‘yes’ answer, but the reality is that I’m not too sure. I mean, there’s minorly more money in my bank account, definitely more space in my fridge (well, there was until Monday) and I have unquestionably not missed a hangover. Perhaps my tummy is slightly flatter or less bloated but, let’s be real here, that could be to do with a whole host of other things (what I’ve eaten, if I’ve exercised, blah blah blah). I’d say my skin looks the same – though I’ve never really suffered with bad skin, I did expect more of a hydrated ‘glow’ – alas, you can’t have it all. It’s been bliss to not feel gross or like I’ve ‘wasted’ a morning/full day hanging out of my arse eating as much grease as I can get my hands on – I have really enjoyed waking up feeling fresh (as fresh as you can feel at the minute). But, apart from a lack of hangxiety, I feel relatively the same. At least my liver has had a holiday this year.
I did wonder if part of me would even enjoy it. And that – weirdly – scared me. Ha! Having a drink is, I suppose, a part of my identity – an in-moderation part I hasten to add. I didn’t not enjoy it – there were only a couple of occasions (including a broken boiler) where I nearly caved. I’m less judgemental and more intrigued by the sober life or being ‘sober curious’ – indeed, there’s something smug about making a cup of tea instead of popping a bottle of fizz, but nothing near as exciting. It was far less of a struggle than I anticipated, though, admittedly, it was always a bit gutting knowing that 1st February fell on a Monday. Don’t get me wrong, that hasn’t stopped me before – but the celebratory first drink doesn’t quite cut the same when you’ve got work the next day. It is, however, very fortunate that England’s Six Nations campaign begins this Saturday. I think it’s time for that curry…
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