Giving up the booze: my year on the vino d’abstinence

Vino d’Abstinence (2014) – a bubbly, energising, new-world vintage with a delicate refined quality at a surprisingly low cost. It has a small but dedicated band of followers.

Four or five years ago I started giving up alcohol for November, mainly to give the body a break before the festive season and to try to get into better physical shape. It was surprisingly difficult. Thirty days and nights. It seemed to go on forever. There was always something – dinners, birthday parties and, of course, the autumn rugby internationals.

The comments were of a piece: What’s wrong with you? Are you on antibiotics? No! You’ve given it up for a month? Jaysus you’re going to the match and you’re not drinking. What a waste of a ticket. Going to be a long day lads. Right, same again and a fizzy orange for Matt Talbot there in the corner . . .

Matt generally slipped away before the mayhem.

Back then, you could short-circuit the conversation by saying you were on antibiotics. Which tells its own story about attitudes to abstinence.

Meanwhile, you don’t miss the hangovers, the tiredness or half the day after written off in grouchy recovery mode. You have way more energy, you get the kids to their sports on time and you’re in better form doing it. No more sticking the car in the far corner of the car park and grabbing a half-hour kip. No more convincing the assistant in the pharmacist that you need that particular medication for a very stiff neck.

In early December, normal service would resume and it was back on the merry-go-round. I wouldn’t describe myself as a big drinker. Comparatively speaking. Comparative to what though? According to those WHO recommended alcohol intake guidelines, most Irish people are big drinkers.

In November 2013, the abstinence trundled right up to Christmas. It wasn’t easy but there was definitely a novelty factor in hitting the gym regularly, going for runs and getting a bit fitter.

Natural high was fantastic

After signing up for Aware’s 10km Christmas run in the Phoenix Park and meeting a suitably achievable middle-aged target, the natural high was fantastic. Immediately afterwards at a Christmas party with the kids, it was refreshing not to be in basic survival mode comparing hangover symptoms with many of the other parents.

As Christmas Day approached, the thoughts of continuing in non-drinking mode grew. It wasn’t an epiphany; just a realisation that the sense of wellbeing was worth it. Having lived in Dublin for many years, I had never swum in the Forty Foot on Christmas Day.

Thankfully, it was one of the mildest in years. It was a good omen for my first alcohol-free Christmas in 30 years. At pre-dinner drinks, family and friends were bemused and puzzled in equal measure.

Of course, there’s some good-natured slagging. My mother-in-law states baldly that she doesn’t trust men who don’t drink. Too late now! A brother intimates that he’ll be dropping me from his invite list. With the notable exception of the non-alcoholic wines (ugh), it turns out to be a memorable Christmas.

While going off the drink in November is understood to some extent, going off it through Christmas and into the new year is practically unheard of.

“How long? God you’re great, I could never do that. Is it tough? Do you miss it? You must be sick of people talking rubbish when they’ve a few on board? Will you stay off it for good?” are by now familiar responses.

But there is also lots of genuine interest too and a good deal of praise and support, which is gratifying. As the months roll by, some of the weight rolls off. When you’re not drinking you have more time and you are better able to use and manage the time you have. It’s a bit like decluttering your home. There’s more time for sports, for family activities, for reading etc.

On the domestic front there were fewer rows – I did check this. Let’s face it, alcohol can often be the spark that ignites disagreements on a night out while the following day two hangovers are often a row waiting to happen. If you remove one from the equation, the potential for arguments decreases dramatically. There’s also a bit of extra cash in the pocket, which is handy.

First drink of the holiday

While pubs tend to be manageable, at house parties, especially after 2am, the law of diminishing returns applies. I also really missed that first drink of the holiday. You know the one where you’ve arrived at the campsite, got unpacked, had the swim and are looking forward to a nice cold . . . Orangina.

January is tough, but that’s because I’ve always found it a long cold month. Some people kick off their resolutions at the start of the month and because they’ve really overindulged in December it works for them.

However, many fall by the wayside. Why? I think it’s a little bit like when you ask for directions down west and the cute farmer says; “If I were you I wouldn’t have started from here”.

Instead of entering into a resolution perhaps without thinking it through and then failing miserably after a short period, it’s probably worth breaking down what you want to achieve and setting achievable goals over a realistic time-frame.

I don’t know if I would have succeeded in staying off alcohol for 14 months if I’d set that goal from the start. But I’m here now and I’ve found it to be a very rewarding and worthwhile journey.

“Resolve” means a firm determination to do something. So ‘screw your courage to the sticking place’ and you won’t fail. It’s worth it. Vino d’Abstinence – even with that unavoidable whiff of smugness – beats Vino Collapso every time.