Last you heard of me, I was having problems being motivated and I was spending the weekend binging. I decided that as long as I was having a hard time getting outside to run because of the weather and my lack of motivation, I might as well take the opportunity to bite the bullet and drop the soda.
Here’s where I stand right now: I decided to quit starting Monday. It has gone well. I can definitely feel my body being sad about the lack of soda and caffeine, but I haven’t had any of the really crazy quitting side effects that you will find if you Google something like “aspartame addiction.” (Don’t do that if you’re going to stop drinking Diet Coke, by the way.)
I haven’t been 100% successful though. I have had two cans of soda each day this week, but that waaaaaay less than I usually drink. There are only three or four cans left in my fridge though, so when those run out, I’ll be carbonation free!
There is no doubt in my mind that I will successfully quit. I’m sad about it—I really like soda—but I know that will fade and I will be healthier. Yay, me! Even if I didn’t do a lot of running, I would say that this was a week well spent.
That said, I will now subject you to an overdramatic, minute-by-minute retelling of the GREAT QUITTING. Because I’m me. And we all know that this is what I do.
Sunday, 11 pm: I chug a can of Diet Coke—my last Diet Coke ever! I then lie awake in my bed until the caffeine wears off.
Monday, 7:30 am: I wake up and feel sad that I can’t have my morning soda. I already miss the bubbles. I look wistfully at the fridge, but go brush my teeth instead.
7:48 am: Panic ensues. I consider quitting the quitting. I take Advil with water instead. Water is stupid.
8:39 am: I’ve already drunk 30 ounces of water this morning. Huh. So this is what being hydrated feels like.
8:52 am: I reminisce about soda. Remember how delicious it was? I miss it already. I also remember that there are several leftover cans of soda in the fridge. I decide that I will allow myself one EMERGENCY SODA per day until they run out. (We already know that this evolved into two sodas. Let’s just pretend I planned it this way.)
…the morning passes with yoga and a run and some work at my desk…
1:55 pm: I feel awesome! This is a piece of cake!
2:10 pm: Imma take a naaaaappp…zzzzzzzzzzz
5:24 pm: I feel a little fuzzy, but maybe I can make it through the day without the EMERGENCY SODA.
6:02 pm: I scream at the dog for a minor infraction. I decide to have that emergency soda.
6:04 pm: I FEEL SO GOOD!!!!!1!!
7:30 pm: I want to go to bed.
Tuesday 7:09 am: Water is stupid. I hate water. Advil on the other hand…
7:45 am: I am sad. The novelty of this whole thing is wearing off.
10:59 am: I realize after spending the morning volunteering at Quinn’s school that soda was like a nice little treat that I would give myself after completing something—like volunteering at Quinn’s school. WHERE IS MY GODDAMN TREAT?! I sadly drink…wait for it…more fucking water.
11:55 am: I retire to my bed in depression and take a ridiculously long nap.
3:12 pm: I decide to drink my EMERGENCY SODA to prevent me from shrieking at my children for existing.
9:43 pm: I feel kinda…tingly.
Wednesday 8:22 am: I’m figuring out that the very first thing in the morning is the hardest for me. I miss my morning soda. Water just doesn’t have the same kick. And carbonated water is the most disgusting thing on earth, so I can’t even substitute with that. This is the worst thing that ever happened to me.
1:33 pm: I am sitting at my desk thinking, “I feel great! I am not even tired at all. I am going to come through this with flying colors. A++++++!!!” Then I remember that I just drank my EMERGENCY SODA at 1:00. Oh. Right.
1:48 pm: I am starting to feel extremely virtuous for drinking so much water.
1:49 pm: I get tired of taking obsessive notes on my state of mind. I decide to declare success for quitting soda even though I haven’t actually technically quit anything.
And there you have it. I win life.
If you want to read something else I’m great at, I wrote about 10 Things Parents Know (That Kids Don’t Want to Hear) over at White Knuckle Parenting this week. My kids may not agree that I am great at knowing things.