Dean with fiancee and friend after ultra marathon

I’m not a big drinker. A scotch on a Friday, beers at a wedding, mostly nothing in between. But the days I do drink? They wreck me. Bad sleep, low mood, a fog that takes most of the next day to clear.

Add to that the growing pile of research saying alcohol is a carcinogen, and I figured it was worth a closer look.

So for 21 days, I decided to cut out alcohol entirely.

The Challenge: 21 Days of No Alcohol

The rule is simple: no alcohol for 21 days.

Trace amounts in mouthwash, NyQuil, or “zero-proof” beverages don’t count. The point is to stop drinking, not to white-knuckle a purity test.

I’ve done a “Dry February” before, but honestly I couldn’t tell you what came of it. This time I wanted to actually pay attention.

Understand the Challenge

Don’t drink alcohol for 21 days. That’s the whole thing.

It sounds easy until you find yourself saying no over and over in moments you wouldn’t have given a second thought before.

Clarify Your Intent

I want to be healthier, more productive, and happier. I had a lot going on in my life at the time: marathon training, a heavy stretch at work, planning a wedding. None of which gets easier with a beer in my hand.

My commitment: “For the next 21 days, no alcohol. I want to see what’s actually changing about my body, my mood, and my output when I take it out.”

Set Your Personal Baseline

I asked Whoop to break down my consumption profile and got a small reality check.

  • Average drinks per drinking day: ~4.5
  • Average drinks per week: higher than I’d have guessed

The weekly number caught me off guard. Most days I don’t drink at all, but the days I do are clearly doing some heavy lifting on the average.

Whoop also showed a clear pattern in what alcohol does to me physiologically:

  • Recovery: Yellow or red after drinking nights, often green after dry stretches.
  • HRV: Mid-teens to low-20s ms after drinking, vs. a typical 45 to 60 ms.
  • Resting HR: Low-to-high 60s on aftermath days vs. high-40s/low-50s normally.
  • Sleep: More disturbance, lower efficiency, more time in bed for less actual rest.

Day 1 baseline of my last 30-day averages:

  • HRV: 62 ms
  • RHR: 46 bpm
  • Recovery: 86%
  • Sleep Performance: 69%
  • Sleep Efficiency: 77%

Finalize Your Plan

There’s not much to this plan beyond saying no.

The biggest thing working in my favor: no major events in the 21-day window where alcohol would be the default. No weddings, no work dinners, no big celebrations.

Schedule the Work

Nothing to schedule. The challenge plays out at the bar, at dinners our with friends, and in my kitchen when I open the fridge to see a nice cold beer staring back at me.

Establish Accountability

My fiancée has been fully sober for over a year, so the accountability was built in. She’d already navigated everything I was about to: the “oh, you’re not drinking?” moments, the bachelor parties (or in her case bachelorette parties), and the awkward wine-pour pause when someone realizes you’re not joining in.

I also live in California, where opting out of alcohol has gotten remarkably easy. Saying “I’m not drinking right now” barely registers anymore.

Commit to Your Plan

If you want to share with someone, a message like this works:

“Hey [Friend], I’m doing a 21-day no-alcohol challenge, mostly to see if it’s costing me more than I think. Heads up if I pass on a drink next time we hang.”

Daily Log Summary

Days 1 to 3: The unexpected craving

I started clean. Day 1 metrics were solid mostly because I’d just had a quiet, snowstorm-induced slow weekend at my parents’ place in Atlanta with almost no movement to speak of.

The weird part hit on Day 2. I got home from my flight, opened the fridge, saw a few leftover beers, and suddenly really wanted one. I almost never crave beer.

Day 3 was the same story. Walking through Costco with my fiancée, I was genuinely tempted by a new scotch they had on display. Pre-challenge I’d go a full week without thinking about alcohol. The moment it became off-limits, my brain would not let it go.

Days 4 to 7: The first social test

By Day 4 I’d swapped my evening wind-down instinct for sparkling water with lemon. The cravings settled.

The first real test came on Day 7. Friends made homemade pizzas and uncorked wine. After a brutal work week, I would have absolutely loved a glass. Instead my fiancée and I drank Gia (a non-alcoholic cocktail) and I held strong to the challenge.

Days 8 to 11: Hitting stride

This was the best stretch. Day 8 I crossed the one-week mark, free from any hangovers (which had become an expectation even if I only drank 1-2 beers the night before). Day 9 I ran a half marathon and then watched the Super Bowl with non-alcoholic Recess cocktails (recommend, by the way). On Day 10 I hit 96% recovery, the highest I’d had in a long time.

The most interesting moment of the entire challenge came on Day 11. After a 15-hour workday and a hard run, I went out to dinner with two friends, fully expecting to be the only one not drinking. They both ordered something non-alcoholic too. I hadn’t said anything; they had their own reasons.

This is the “California shift” everyone keeps talking about. Three guys at dinner, none of us drinking, none of it weird.

Days 12 to 17: Training load complicates the data

Marathon training started taking a real toll. Speed work, long runs, F45 strength classes, a 15-mile run on Day 15, then a Presidents’ Day reset on Day 16. Recovery and HRV bounced around hard, and the headline numbers stopped looking clearly better than my baseline. Sleep performance was the bright spot, holding steady throughout.

Whatever benefit no alcohol was giving me was getting buried under marathon volume.

Days 18 to 21: Home stretch

I skipped rest days too aggressively this week and paid for it in recovery scores. The subjective pattern held though. Mornings felt sharper. I could get up and get to work before coffee. Got to Day 21 after a 17-mile run with more energy and a clearer head than I’d started with.

Final Reflections

The headline metrics don’t tell a clean story. My weekly averages didn’t dramatically improve from drinking weeks to dry weeks because my marathon training load was ramping up heavily throughout the challenge. But there was real signal in there:

  • Sleep performance was my clearest gain, jumping about 7 points week over week.
  • Mornings felt sharper, even on days I wouldn’t have been drinking anyway. That was the biggest surprise.
  • I performed better under stress. Heavy work, marathon training, travel. A beer or scotch in any of those moments would have made things harder, not easier.
  • Whoop says alcohol drops my recovery 21%, vs. a 13% member average. So I’m hit harder than most.

What surprised me most was how dose-dependent the cost is. 1-2 drinks barely register. 3 or more is where things go sideways. And drinking close to bedtime makes everything worse.

So I’m keeping alcohol around, but only at weddings, nice dinners, and work events. The Friday wind-down beer, the casual scotch at home, the default “why not” pour are all out. I’ll have a few drinks at a friend’s bachelor party next week, and that’s totally fine.

Key takeaway:

Alcohol stays special, not default.

Lately, my stress has been leaking into places it doesn’t belong.

I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night with my mind racing and once I’m awake, that’s usually it. No scrolling. No phone. Just laying there thinking about work until the alarm goes off. During the day, I’ve noticed I’m more irritable than usual, snapping at small things that normally wouldn’t bother me. Everything feels rushed, like I’m constantly behind even when I’m not.

Most of it is coming from work.

Right now, I’m juggling a lot at once. My responsibilities at work have expanded quickly, there are several high-stakes initiatives moving in parallel, and I’m effectively operating across multiple roles. Add in a global team spread across time zones, and it’s been hard to ever fully shut my brain off.

I don’t love admitting this, but it started to feel unsustainable.

I know what chronic stress does over time: to health, relationships, and overall life satisfaction. So instead of trying to “power through” like I usually do, I decided to experiment with something different.

I decided to try meditation and see if it could actually help.


Understanding the Challenge

For the next 21 days, I committed to meditating every single day.

  • Minimum: 5 minutes per day (later increased to 10)
  • Tool: Headspace, starting with Learn the Basics of Meditation
  • Timing:
    • Weekdays: during lunch, right in the middle of peak work chaos
    • Weekends: first thing in the morning
  • Rule: If the timing wasn’t perfect, I still showed up

This wasn’t about becoming enlightened. It was about seeing if a small, consistent practice could quiet my noisy mind.


Clarify Your Intent

The “why” here was simple.

I’ve heard for years that meditation helps manage stress. I also know that chronic stress leads to a long list of negative health outcomes and slowly chips away at how much you actually enjoy your life.

If I could get my stress under control, even slightly, I figured I’d:

  • Sleep better
  • Be more pleasant to be around
  • Live longer and enjoy it more

That felt like a worthwhile, low-risk bet to make (if only I could find the odds on Kalshi).


Set Your Personal Baseline

I hadn’t meditated a single time over the last several years.

That said, I wasn’t starting without some experience. Nearly 12 years ago, I participated in a 3-month yoga and meditation study. The study participants did yoga for 20 minutes and meditated for 10 minutes every day. I remember feeling happier, calmer, and even having vivid, lucid dreams.

I always wondered how much of that was meditation and how much was having few real responsibilities (I was in university at the time).

Well, it was time to find out.

Here’s my 30-day averages before starting according to Whoop:

  • HRV: 41 ms
  • Resting Heart Rate: 55 bpm
  • Recovery: 61%
  • Sleep Performance: 82%
  • Sleep Efficiency: 92%

Finalize Your Plan

Consistency mattered more than perfection.

Because most of my stress came from work, I intentionally scheduled my meditation during the workday, typically at the start of lunch (which for me is about six hours into my day), when Slack messages, calls, and general chaos are usually peaking.

On weekends, I meditated shortly after waking up.

If I needed to move the session around, I didn’t stress about it (smart, ay?). The only hard rule was don’t skip the day. I also made a point to pause after each session and briefly reflect on how I felt, both mentally and physically.


Establish Accountability

I shared the plan with my fiancée, and she decided to join me for many meditation sessions. Having someone else in it made it easier to stay consistent, especially on days when my motivation was low. There were even days where I came close to forgetting my meditation and her nudge made sure I didn’t miss a single session.


How the 21 Days Actually Felt

Meditation wasn’t consistently peaceful.

Some days were calm and grounding. Other days were filled with distractions, background noise, interruptions, travel, alcohol, sickness, and classic “monkey mind.” Thoughts about work, business ideas, workouts, and random daydreams constantly tried to take over.

A few patterns stood out:

  • Early days: Meditation mostly made me aware of how busy my mind already was. Even when sessions felt messy, I usually felt slightly calmer afterward.
  • Middle stretch: I stopped trying to block thoughts and instead practiced acknowledging them and letting them go. This was a turning point. I started experiencing short but meaningful moments of real mental space. I even increased from meditation five minutes to ten minutes a day.
  • Later days: Holidays, travel, alcohol, and eventually getting sick made meditation harder. Brain fog set in. Some sessions felt unproductive—but even then, I almost always felt better afterward than before.

By the end of the challenge, one change was undeniable:

I stopped waking up in the middle of the night from stress.


What Happened to My Metrics?

I tracked my Whoop data throughout the challenge to see if meditation would show up in the numbers.

Here’s the honest answer:

There was no clean, linear improvement across all metrics.

HRV and recovery fluctuated heavily day to day, often driven more by:

  • Alcohol
  • Travel
  • Poor sleep
  • Getting sick toward the end of the challenge

That said, a few things stood out:

  • Sleep performance and efficiency trended slightly upward overall, especially during the middle portion of the challenge
  • On days where I meditated consistently and avoided alcohol, recovery scores were noticeably better
  • Even on objectively “bad” metric days, meditation helped me feel calmer and less reactive

The biggest improvement didn’t show up neatly in a chart:

I wasn’t waking up in the middle of the night stressed anymore.

The takeaway: Meditation didn’t override bad inputs but it did seem to raise my floor, especially mentally.


Final Reflections

Meditation didn’t eliminate stress from my life. That was never realistic.

What it did give me was space. Space between stress and reaction, between thought and spiral. That space made me more patient, more present, and better able to downshift when things felt overwhelming.

Five to ten minutes a day turned out to be a small price to pay for better sleep, improved emotional control, and a calmer baseline.

I’ll be continuing this practice and specifically retrying this challenge over a more representative timeframe (not the holidays).


Want to Try This Yourself?

Here’s the challenge:

For the next 21 days, meditate every day.
Start with 5 minutes. Use a guided app if needed. Don’t aim for “peace”, just commit to showing up.

Your mind is already loud.
This is how you teach it to breathe again.

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