As I write this I have completed 10 days so far. Consecutive days – unlike one of my colleagues who attempted a January detox, that started on 4th and finished on 25th and only actually managed 6 individual days. I shall be doing a full 31 days – with the last day being Thursday 5th March.
No alcohol. No caffeine. No bleach-snorting, no elephant tranquilizer, no e-by-bum, no vodka eye-shots. Nothing. Anything that could be seen as an intoxicant is out. Fun is banned.
I first heard of detoxes through a hero of mine, Sven Vath. I was quite astounded many years ago, probably 15 years ago, when I read that he took a month out to cleanse his body and his soul. But closer to home, a good friend of mine, Gareth, influenced me by his annual January detoxes. Again, I initially thought it was bizarre, the idea of going without drinking for a month, but I came around to the idea last year.
Last year I needed a detox. My body was tired from all the partying – I was partying by habit and physically and mentally fatigued. It gave me a new look on life and helped me to reprioritise. More importantly, I felt somewhat repaired afterwards.
This year I don’t need a detox. But I want a detox. Time out from drinking and partying – time to spend on other projects of mine, and studying. Pressing the reset button to get myself off caffeine. And to save money so I can invest in something that I really want. And hopefully lose some frigging weight.
Having started the detox with a flu bug, I did allow myself some cold and flu tablets until it had cleared. There was a moment when I was struggling to shake it off that I dreamt of having a nice strong vodka to try to rid myself of it. And then last Friday on the way to work, I daydreamed of having a glass of wine upon completion of my day until reality struck.
Then on Saturday I put myself through the pain of being in a bar but only able to drink apple juice and rose lemonade, which is clearly an acquired taste that I haven’t acquired. The lack of alcohol prohibits attempts to shout at others to make oneself heard. And then on Sunday I popped to the Oakford – how I would have loved a Fruli.
No, No, No. I stick to the plan. If I say I am going to do something, I do it. I will resist all temptation.
But I do really want a beer.