Two weeks ago I was so sick, and now, looking back at it, it could have been Covid, but I don't like to give that belief much thought. I know the virus is real. I just think it could have been prevented and that it was created, not an act of nature. That's not what this blog is about; this blog is about one of the things to come out of the illness. I gave coffee while I was sick because it upset my stomach so badly. I finally just said no to it, and though I'm on the mend, and almost over the dang thing, I still don't want to drink coffee.
I'm not going to be dramatic, or say that I was an addict. I will say that I drank it every day, and that I looked forward to doing so. I drank coffee regularly since about my early 20s, even though I began drinking it at the age of two. I wasn't a full-cup drinker until about the age of 21.
When I was in my younger years I'd find a place like Starbucks to make me a strong cappuccino, usually a wet cappuccino, and usually with three or even four shots of espresso. I didn't do this all the time, but I did it enough so that when Starbucks came to my hometown, I knew what to order. I drank a grande four-shot wet cappuccino. That was my go to.
Over time I started lowering the shots down to just two, and then finally going to a tall with just one shot. Time continued to pass and I would just make mine a flat white, asking for more cream. It's been gradual. I owned my own espresso machine, but they never turned out as good as the ones you could get at a shop. My coffee pot was good though. I kept it stocked with good darker roasts and I drank one to three cups a day usually. I saved myself a tremendous amount of money doing that.
Working from home, I don't get out to buy coffee on the go. I just make it at home. I decided two weeks ago to stop and I just didn't make it. I wasn't an addict apparently, because I didn't have any qualms about putting the pot away. I just stashed the machine in the pantry and haven't used it since. It didn't take a lot of heartwrenching to do it; I just wrapped up the cord, rinsed out the machine and stuffed it into the pantry where it sits today.
One thing I thought would happen was that I would have intense withdrawals from choosing to go without any stimulant. That never happened. I mean, maybe it did and I was just too sick from the cold-covid thing to know I was having caffeine withdrawals. I didn't have a head ache that I remember. I didn't feel weird or empty. I just stopped drinking it. I substituted green tea, Macha tea, and I love it. I only drank one cup, not two or three. This morning was the first time in about 12 days that I had regular green tea. I'm not going to substitute one caffeine for another. I just liked Macha and I'll drink it when I want to.
I'm not kidding, I thought if I ever had to give up my coffee I would fall apart. That didn't happen. It was like letting go of someone who just sort of hangs out and doesn't do anything for me. It was as if I was keeping coffee around for my own reasoning, but there was no actual reason. I don't feel badly. I don't feel anything different. I'm not happy about it. I'm not sad about it. I'm not even sure I even notice any differences yet, but I'm told I'll have a clearer mind to think through issues. That makes me happy.
I'm filling my life and body with good things. I meditate, eat correctly, sleep well, stretch, do exercises, walk, and pray. I take the right supplements and drink plenty of lemon or lime water throughout the day. Maybe...just maybe....giving up the coffee will be the one thing that triggers my hormones to finally release this stupid belly fat! Wouldn't that be nice? I'll pray about it. I don't want to put any false hope out there.
That's it. No more coffee for me, not unless I have an occasional drink with friends or something, but for right now it feels as if it's history. I'll keep you posted.
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