First of all, at some point we collectively forgot how to count. Lent is not 40 days. It’s 46. You might be able to stretch that a bit and not count Holy Week (Palm Sunday – Easter Sunday), but nobody ends the Lenten sacrifice on Palm Sunday. It ends a week after that.
Thus, here we are, one week out from having the first beer I’ve had since Mardi Gras. I thought that tonight would be a good time to reflect on the journey so far.
I was originally a bit concerned that I wasn’t going to make it the entire season and just give up part way through and order a PBR at Butch’s after a long day at the office, or have perhaps just a sip of the beer that I was bottling with my friends today. This is the longest I’ve gone without drinking since I was 19, and it’s been an interesting experience. While I’m not saying I’d continue this whole not drinking thing (I like beer too much. And wine. And Captain Morgan), it actually has not been as hard as I thought it was, even though I didn’t join my friends in drinking to celebrate a good friend’s birthday, or St. Patrick’s Day, or winning the soccer game, or breaking a personal best for distance on a run this morning. Although I pretty much stayed at home and didn’t partake in any St. Patty’s Day activities, I still had a good time at my friend’s birthday party in Grand Rapids, and I still head across the street after work and have fried melty cheese or half-priced boom boom shrimp while they sip on microbrews.
I’m glad that I did this, and I’ll probably look back on it in a few months and decide that I was just a little insane, giving this up. It’s been good for me, though; I’ve lost about 10 pounds, and I’ve had no excuse to not work out in the mornings or go on long runs. Hopefully this will help restore a little balance in my life.
Now, for these last six days, I have just one last challenge: deciding what on earth am I going to have to celebrate. The first Oberon the year? A PBR at Butch’s?
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