My doctor recommended I drink 100 ounces of water a day. A hundred whole ounces. With health conditions that can be managed and, potentially, eliminated by drinking water, you’d think that I would be happy to guzzle half my weight in water ever day. But, the truth is, I hate water.
Yeah, I said it.
I hate water.
There is no limit to the advice people offer in order to change my mind on this topic:
- Freeze (insert name of fruit) and use them like ice cubes
- Have it carbonated
- And flavored
- Infuse it with wild berries, mint, cucumbers
- Drop a zillion teabags into a jug and sit it in the sun
- Grab a straw and drink it straight from a coconut
I was convinced that the number of things you have to do to water to make it generally palatable was proof enough that water is lame. Then I stumbled across a solution that has altered the work of hydration into a luxury on par with a beachside four-hands massage in Bali.
Consume all water from a red wine glass.
There is something so indulgent about marrying the tips of my index finger and thumb around a spotless, skinny stem that makes me want to tingle a silver bell until a man in crisp white jacket named Geoffrey appears. I was lugging around a gigantic pink 42 ounce Yeti, convincing myself that chugging this beast twice a day was manageable.
It’s not.
But you know what is? A shiny red wine glass. I’d rather draw a delicate 16 ounce of the earth’s juice to my lips than any other liquid transportation device. I have tried white wine glass, but, at 12 ounces, that ups my required consumption. I do enjoy a nice, fat-bottomed stemless glass but the glass has to have a little more weight to it. The experiment of drinking water from a variety of wine glasses yielded unexpected the most unexpected of results — my general disgust for water dissipated and I upped my water infusion game 16 ounces at time. A friend gifted me with a flavor kit intended for gin cocktails that I immediately repurposed for my Make Water S**k Less campaign. The dehydrated grapefruit and cinnamon turned out be an interesting, but not terrible choice.
The moral of the story is there is more than one way to do hard things. And yes, Judgey McJudgerson, drinking copious amounts of water is hard for me. I understand that I need water to live my best life. It is undeniable how my skin has responded and the doctor is happy with the newest lab results. I can’t say I sleep better because the frequency with which I visit the restroom each night has significantly increased, but it’s a small price to pay to be able to live a bit more comfortably. To know that I can actively contribute to my health in ways that are creative, tailored to me, and, fine, a little bit fun.
