I don’t normally make resolutions. There’s pretty much only one I make every year. Drink more water. Specifically, down eight glasses of water a day, the equivalent of 2 quarts. How hard could that be?
Not that hard. Just as it’s not that difficult to run a 5K, scrub the toilet, or roll your r’s when you’re speaking Spanish to your poodle, Humberrrrrrto. Like everything, it merely takes commitment, attention, follow-through. Once you commit to drinking eight glasses of water a day for one week, you must pay attention to how much and when you’re drinking, followed by either keeping it up or drinking more. It’s summer. Water’s cold, goes well with fruit, cucumber, tea. Easy peasy, yeah?
Day 1: It’s 3:03 pm and I’ve had 4 cups so far. I fetch my bottle and fill it with chilled, filtered H2O. It’s the first time ever that I’ve owned a refrigerator with a water dispenser, and, in this aspect of my life, I feel as if I’ve arrived. “You’ll never get anywhere with that mouth of yours,” my fifth grade P.E. teacher, Mr. Newtown, once told me. How do you like me now, Mr. Newtown? Looks like this mouth of mine has gotten me an awesome fridge. I should also mention that I love my water bottle– clear glass wrapped in a pearl-white silicone sleeve. I’ve been Googling the metric conversion of 600 ml, which is what my 22 oz glass water bottle holds. Isn’t Google such a crazy paradox? It saves so much time referencing such conversions, yet it wastes so much in enabling us to do so.
In the evening before dinner, I tally my intake. Two bottles = 5 cups + 1 cup juice with ice + ½ cup water gulped before tripping out the door for an early-morning run. Crap, I’m still down 1½ cups, which I sip between dinner and bedtime. I call Day 1 a success.
The results I imagine:
cooler body temperature
The actual results:
An urge wakes me at midnight. I proceed to re-create the bladder-evacuation scene from the original Austin Powers. Those late-nights when you’re camping and you have to leave the warm tent, and you’re in an awkward position for what seems like forever because your bladder never seems to fully empty itself? Yep, that.
Note to self: Start guzzling sooner tomorrow.
[Posted in response to Literary Lion’s “water” prompt]