England

Dry January Just Gets Harder

It’s more difficult for me to do dry January than it is for most people. I should explain. You see, as a younger adult, I spent many years dealing with the emotional trauma of being an Olympic athlete trapped in a beer drinker’s body. I overcame that burden with a new year resolution somewhere around 2002 to never again visit a gym: a resolution that I am proud to have maintained ever since.

It was my father who introduced me to beer when I was a teenager, in fact I celebrated my 18th birthday in our local pub, with Dad and other regulars, three years in a row in the 1970s. Since that introduction, beer and I have remained in close contact at all times, so a month without any, right now, is extremely challenging. Especially in COVID enforced lockdown.

Beer is one of the most wonderful things about being born an Englishman. Travelling around the world drinking different beers is one thing, but English ale is unique, and, let’s face it, better than all the other types put together. It’s always here to welcome us home from our travels, just closing my eyes and taking one mouthful means that pretty much all is well with the world. With no pubs open, there’s no draught ale, so clearly all is NOT well with the world right now. QED.

Dry January is nearly done. We’re nearly at the end. Know what, I’m never going to do it again. And that’s a promise.

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