I was at a craft brewery the other day with a good-sized group of friends and the strangest thing happened: at least half the people at the table chose not to drink beer.
And it should definitely be noted that this was not only delicious, award-winning beer, but in fact it was delicious, award-winning FREE beer. The generous soul who brought us all together was picking up the tab.
I, of course, had two beers. I’m a big fan of our local craft brews, and the only thing better than a delicious craft beer is a delicious free craft beer. And the only thing better than that is two delicious free craft beers.
So what was going on that day? Why all the polite refusals? Was I out on the town with the Moodyville Temperance Society? That would be a strange group to bring to a brewery.
No, it wasn’t full abstinence on display, but rather a collection of people who all happened to be doing their own version of Dry January, the practice of avoiding alcoholic beverages for the first month of the year.
Dryuary, as it’s known in some sorta sober circles, falls into a category in the same neighbourhood as the traditional New Year’s resolution. It’s taking the coming of a new year as an opportunity to make a lifestyle change, a chance for self-improvement and a push for good health following the indulgences of the holidays.
Watching everyone drink their non-alcoholic craft kombuchas – which were actually more expensive than some of the beers, if you can believe it – I was reminded of my own New Year’s resolution. My work has me saddling up and riding a desk most weekdays, decreasing the physical activity I once had as a spry youngster. And so, feeling particularly logy after a holiday season spent crushing movies and cookies from various couches, I resolved to get my heart-rate up, with at least some semi-intense movement, for at least 10 minutes every day in 2024.
Sure 10 minutes sounds like a modest goal, and on many days, particularly during my busy sports coaching season, I would blast by that number easily. But some days I notice that I’ve done nothing more than shift from one chair to another, and I wanted to set a goal that would allow me to realize modest, sustained success. I needed to sweat a little bit, every day.
Anyway, I started the challenge on Jan. 1, and I don’t think I made it to Jan. 2. Jan. 3, for sure, involved a lot of video games and zero jump squats.
Three weeks later I was sitting in the brewery watching all these healthy folks follow through with the kombucha, and I got inspired to restart my own resolution. The next morning I got out of bed early, set my timer for 10 minutes and quietly moved my body up and down and side to side while everyone else slept nearby.
The next day I did it again. And the next day I ran stairs while my kid played soccer. I’ve got 10 minutes in every day since the resolution restart, and it got me thinking that maybe a late-January check in on those resolutions is not such a bad idea. The start of January is a weird time when you’re in that deadzone after Christmas and New Years Eve but before society kicks back into the regular routine. It’s a hazy land of leftover food, booze and regret – not the easiest time to start a long-lasting new way of life.
But the end of January? Now we’re back in rhythm, and the body and mind just might be a bit more willing to take on new challenges.
We’ll see, I guess.
As for my Dryuary friends, I found out later that half of them didn’t actually make it all the way to the end of January.
“It’s such a long month!” one explained.
It is a long month – tied for the longest, don’t you know. If you’ve made a resolution that didn’t quite stick, why not give it another shot in February. Now that is a short month! Even in a leap year.
I’ll raise a toast to anyone out there making the extra effort. Let’s see how it’s going 29 days from now.
Maybe I’ll skip Dryebruary though. Who can afford all that kombucha?
Andy Prest is the editor of the North Shore News. His humour/lifestyle column runs biweekly.
