I wasn’t expecting what happened after my statement. His raucous laughter filled up the room and sent a shock wave through my whole body. A minute later, after he had calmed down, the following statement left his mouth – “Yea, that’s what all junkies say”.
Junkie? Me? JUNKIE??? Oh god, oh god, oh god. I think he might be right. I was about to head on my first long run of my shiny new marathon training plan. Usually I have a coffee pre run and take gels that also contain caffeine. But wait – a few days previously I had given up coffee – hopefully for good.
You might be wondering why I have given up coffee in the first place. I didn’t start drinking it until my mid-20s. But a trip to the land of unctuous crema and creamy strong flat whites changed that. From the moment first sipped on a cup of light brown heaven, I was hooked. Even sitting here now, I am imagining the satisfaction I get from the smell of a fresh bag of expertly roasted coffee beans. It makes me happy – or, at least it did. Until…
I suffer from anxiety. I know a lot of us do, so I’m no different to most people. But it has become increasingly annoying over the last couple of years. It took a couple of people to tell me I come across as jittery (what, me and my silky smooth movements and blue steel expression?! I wish) to realise that I needed to cave in to the dreaded thought I have had for a while – to give up one of my biggest loves in life.
As I sit here typing, I have gone one whole week without coffee. And it’s true what they say. The first 4 days are hell. Headaches, body aches, fuzzy head, constant yawning – I don’t think I’ve ever yawned so much in the space of 8 hours at work – and a longing to snap a cup out of the hand of every passer-by who I swear was looking at me with a smirk on their face as they sipped their cup of gold.
But what I have realised is that my coffee addiction is more than just about the caffeine hit. It is the ritual – I love popping into a good coffee shop and perving at the cakes, whilst listening to their carefully curated playlist, waiting patiently for my prize. So I decided to go to what I had always thought of as the dark side – drinking decaf.
Yes, I have converted to decaf coffee and I’M PROUD. What I haven’t quite grasped yet though is what brand to go for. Who roasts the tastiest drop? Can I actually get any good decaf to drink in a French press at home? Should I invest in a good coffee machine to make up for it?
I’m stumped and I need your help. Any suggestions are very very very welcome. Right now though, I’m going to head downstairs to the workplace coffee man, who doesn’t yet know and I’m sure will start making my non decaf as soon as he sees me walking across to him from afar. Sorry in advance, Ross – you’re going to have to put that grind back and reach for the devil behind you.
Delusion is in the air
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