Opinion
I quit booze for a month, can’t vouch for the makeover
Michael Koziol
Sydney editorIf one were ever to doubt the ubiquity of alcohol in our daily lives, eschewing it for a month is a sobering (pun very much intended) reminder.
My five weeks on the wagon – a belated Dry July – had a specific goal: maximise my results in this weekend’s City2Surf. At the time of writing, the jury’s still out on that front.
Australia has some of the strictest guidelines in the world on levels of safe drinking.Credit: iStock
But of course, a break from the booze is probably always a good idea, especially if you maintain a busy work and social life that inevitably involves consuming more than Australia’s puritanical guidelines prescribe.
I was looking forward to the makeover: abs magically appearing, skin suddenly glowing, mental clarity washing over me like a divine revelation. I also hoped for less trouble with mouth ulcers, which have occasionally afflicted me since childhood. No hangovers, saving money, driving anywhere at any time – it’s all upside at the outset.
The first test came the very first weekend, with a dinner and house party attended by quite a few good friends. One was particularly keen to debate the failings of the media – a worthy topic, yes, though somewhat tiresome after midnight when stone-cold sober. Was this what all events were really like when sober?
Shortly after, a few of us went on to a nightclub, where I danced quite happily, although I was haunted by a recurring feeling: this would be more fun drunk.
Dancing powered by soda water: Jill Stark, the author of High Sobriety: My Year Without Booze, sober at a Primal Scream gig in 2011.Credit: Penny Stephens
The late Christopher Hitchens said alcohol “makes people less tedious” – indeed, when inevitably asked to reflect on a lifetime of drinking while on his deathbed, he affirmed: “It stopped me being bored, stopped other people being boring, to some extent.”
He added: “It would make me want the evening to go on longer, to prolong the conversation, to enhance the moment.”
This is what I too concluded over my weeks of abstinence. You find yourself too conscious of your surroundings, too aware of your own appearance and sound, too focused and too uptight and too concerned about the clock. You realise alcohol makes you less boring, too.
It doesn’t help that much of the conversation at any event is about why you aren’t drinking. My default answer: “Court order.” Just kidding. They’re not impertinent questions; they’re perfectly reasonable, but they tend to give rise to dull responses, so have a spicier reply at the ready.
Everyone (including yourself, I find) feels much better if you at least have some sort of beverage in hand. And so, in the land of the sober you become well acquainted with the growing range of non-alcoholic alternatives to grog. As beer goes, I’ve found no better substitute than Heaps Normal. Alcohol-free wine – at least the cheap stuff I’ve been sampling – still has a way to go.
During week two, I popped into a piano bar while away in Brisbane for work. If you thought nursing a beer alone at a pub was sad (it’s not, really), there’s nothing sadder than nursing a lime and soda. It doesn’t exactly endear you to the bar staff either, even if you happily pay your $3.50. I arrived home and there it was: a mouth ulcer. This was not part of the deal.
The biggest test came at a work farewell with a steady flow of free drinks and an atmosphere I’d describe as festive – but highly negative about my abstinence. A colleague at the party was on the same City2Surf sober streak, which helped. But he can already run faster than me, and I began to wonder if my efforts were all in vain.
Over the weeks it got easier – and harder. I breezed through footy games at the SCG on bottles of water alone, cycled home on e-bikes without worry, and went to the gym at midnight at least once. But then, sitting at a bar catching up with an old friend, it seemed silly and unfair to be without a glass of white.
Near the end of the five weeks, another friend mentioned their month on the wagon turned into three months and counting. You often see this in “inspirational” health and wellbeing columns, where the writer has seen the light and realised life is so much better without alcohol.
Well, not this one. After I run into Bondi this Sunday – presumably in record time – I intend to be solidly off the wagon by 10am.
Might I drink less, or differently, after this experiment? I think so, though I couldn’t guarantee it. Would I do Dry July again? Definitely, yes.
For the record, the abs didn’t materialise (perhaps you have to actually work out, too). I was sure I had banished a couple of minor skin blemishes – alas, one morning they suddenly returned. Turns out lighting has more to do with it than booze.
As for the mental clarity, there might be something to that. Then again, over time I’ve had some great ideas sober and some great ideas drunk. You just have to remember them in the morning.
Michael Koziol is Sydney editor at The Sydney Morning Herald.