Hilary Sheinbaum - The Dry Challenge: How to Lose the Booze for Dry January, Sober October, and Any Other Alcohol-Free Month

For Alejandro

Thanks for making a bet...

keeping your side of the wager,

and, uh... being a great friend.

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In 2015, I was not really myself. I was off, dizzy, anxious, and just not well. I am someone who has always strived to live a healthy lifestyle, but that seemed to have been lost in that period of my life. I saw doctor after doctor until we eventually found the sourcea severe vitamin deficiency. After finding the root cause of my issues, I was able to begin a healing journey that would ultimately lead me even deeper into my mission for wellness.

Now, you might be wondering, what does any of that have to do with Dry January? Two things: I am a New Yorker, having lived in the city for more than ten years, and I have an extensive culinary background. So what do these two things have in common? Alcohol. Yes, alcohol. In our society, especially in busy, bustling metropolitan areas, it is quite common for alcohol to be at the center of all social activity. This is something that I am not a stranger to. Alcohol is at the center of both the New York social scene and the culinary industry. Its just there, and it almost feels expected that you participate, even if its just one perfect cocktail at a Michelin-star restaurant in Greenwich Village.

As someone who was trying to heal herself internally and become well again, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to participate in Dry January. I heard about the challenge from a friend and was motivated by the potential of what it could do for my body and mind. I decided to take it on and see how my healing journey would be affected and how it might change my social interactions.

I dont want you to get the impression Im a big drinker, by any means; I just enjoy a nice tequila on the rocks at dinner with friends. Having a drink felt like the thing to do, so when I took on this challenge, there was a shift. It was, well, strange. It felt odd to not order a glass of wine or say, Lets go for drinks! after a long day at work. While my challenge and decision got a few initial questions from friends, most were supportive. It became somewhat liberating not to depend on drinking for socializing. In addition to feeling liberated, it helped me feel like I was supporting the actions I had already implemented to heal my body. My skin was clear and I had more energy than I had had in a long time. I was able to sleep better and think clearer. The Dry January challenge turned into another tool in my arsenal for healing.

My friend Hilary Sheinbaum captures the ins and outs of Dry January perfectly in this book. Ive known Hilary to be a writer, journalist, wellness enthusiast, and an overall realist. This book is the most relatable how-tomeetsmemoir Ive read yet. She outlines a step-by-step guide to conquering a Dry January all while offering her own experienceswhich can help with any Dry Challenge. She answers every question you could possibly have about its before, during, and aftereffects and gives you an inside look to her own challenges with a dry month. This book doesnt just help answer all of your questionsyou also feel as if youve found a friend in Hilary with whom you can go through a possibly challenging month (especially if none of your real-life friends is willing to give up their glass of Pinot Noir!).

Lo Bosworth, founder and CEO of Love Wellness

I was first introduced to the idea of Dry Januarythe self-imposed pact to abstain from all forms of alcohol for the entire monthby one of my friends, Alejandro (aka Al). The first time we met was at a pre-party get-together in my New York City apartment during the winter of 2014. He was a guest of a guest, and brought a bottle of vodka for the occasion as a hostess gift (thanks, bud). Fast-forward to December 2016, during the month of boozy holiday get-togethers and birthdays, work-induced drinking activities, and an excessive number of unnecessary late nights, when Al and I had a casual dinner to hang out and catch up. Over sushi, he told me about a friend who had pledged to not drink during the following month. I almost fell out of my seat. Im pretty sure I paused with my nigiri mid-chopstick-lift and responded with a dropped jaw.

Why?

Al explained: The previous year, his friend had given up all forms of boozewine, beer, and spiritsfor one whole month (bravo to you, I thought). This guy had successfully completed the challenge and wouldnt shut up about how amazing he had felt during and after his drink-free January. The friend was going to attempt it again. Al was considering it, too. Interesting, I noted to myself. It was definitely a thought-provoking take on a typical New Years resolution. At this stage in my career, I had been writing about a variety of topics, but I was mostly covering food and beverage: everything from chefs, restaurants, mixologists, and bars to wine and, of course, cocktails. I didnt consider myself an excessive drinker, thenmaybe two drinks a night twice each weekor even now, but my job certainly presented a number of opportunities, for, um, tastings and fun times with alcoholic beverages. (I believe the technical term is first-hand research.)

Almost immediately following the next few bites of sashimi and salmon rolls, I totally forgot about Dry January (truthfully, sushi has that shiny-object-attention-grabbing effect on me, like a Golden Retriever spotting a tennis ball... no offense, Dry Jan!). But, one week after Al enlightened me, on New Years Eve 2016, with a glass of Champagne in my hand (with no tasty tuna on the table to distract me) and no prospects for a New Years goal, I remembered my friends intention to eliminate alcohol from his agenda. And so, before the ball-drop countdown began, over text message, we decided to make a bet. The premise? Who could stay sober for thirty-one days straight. The person who had one drink (even one silly sip of a beer)ahem, the loserwould treat the winner to dinner at any restaurant in New York City. (The list included Michelin-starred venues Eleven Madison Park, Per Se, and Momofuku Ko.) If we both won Dry January, wed split the bill. If we both failed, there would be no feasting on fancy food for these friends who failed to remain dry. Happy New Year! I wished my friend as midnight struck.

And just like that, we had a bet. And thirty-one days to go.

That first year of Dry January was definitely the most challenging for me. For one, I went in completely unprepared. It was something I decided to do on a whim (more specifically: less than five minutes before 2017 while consuming an unusual amount of bubbly. It was, after all, New Years Eve). I learned everything I know about Dry January by doing ityes, by simply participating. Sure, I listened to advice (both helpful and not-so-great ideas), but at the time there were few people (at least within my immediate social circles) who were participating in this cultural phenomenon. Some of my friends were skeptical. Others were supportive. Many rolled their eyes in disbelief (or frustration, or just indifference). But I had Al to back me up. He was my Sober Month Support Squad (party of two), right? Well... for a minute anyway.

Long story short: Al lost. I won a very nice supper paid for by my dear friend, thanks to my stubbornness in remaining dry and his inability to pass up a beer (under peer pressure).