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Friday, February 13, 2015

The Detox Is Back

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.