My Dryathlon: The end

AFTER 31 days of turning down invitations for after work drinks, deliberately avoiding the wine aisle in Sainsbury’s and opting for a soft drink with every meal, I was very much looking forward to my first sip of Chardonnay in 2013.

But because I had spent most of Friday afternoon (that is, February 1 – the Holy Grail of Fridays for all of us strong willed dryathlon-ers) anticipating the cool, smooth, buttery taste of the wine, I’d forgotten the bitter, dry, and painful aftertaste which generally accompanies said beverage.

I’m talking about the hangover.

On Saturday I awoke to blinding white light streaking into my bleary, mascara clogged eyes. The sun had decided to come out for the first time in what must be weeks, if not months, in Nottingham, and it had chosen to do so at the most inopportune time. I don’t know why, I suspect there is some complicated scientific justification, but the daylight always seems that much more pervasive and glaring in the midst of a hangover.

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So, as I was awake and there was no hope of getting back to sleep with what felt like a small army of vicious trolls with pointy little pitchforks waging a war inside my head, I tried to recollect the evening before.

As I assessed the evening (or more precisly what I could remember of it) in the harsh, oh so very harsh, light of day I decided that my month of not drinking had actually made drinking a far more tricky activity than before.

My body had become used to feeling energised and refreshed every morning. My liver had sat back and put its feet up for a month, what with not having to go in to overdrive every Friday and Saturday. My mum had had 31 nights of uninterrupted sleep.

But then February 1 rolled round and put an end to all this. And after the month off it seems my body took longer to cope with the alcohol than usual.

In sum I am now in a bit of a quandary. I like the feeling of freshness and energy that I’ve enjoyed throughout Janaury. I hate feeling hungover.

But I also like wine.

Somewhere, between agony hangover morning and tedious tee total, there has to be a nice place where people drink the perfect amount of alcohol, resulting in zero headache. I am on the hunt for that place.

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