Dry July gives Kiwis the opportunity to examine their drinking - and reap some health wins in the meantime. Photo / iStock
Opinion by Jamie Morton
Jamie Morton, a specialist in science and environmental reporting for New Zealand's Herald, has spent the last decade writing about everything from conservation and cosmology to climate change and COVID-19.
Jamie Morton is a specialist in science and environmental reporting. He joined the Herald in 2011 and writes about everything from conservation and climate change to natural hazards and new technology.
OPINION
For thousands of Kiwis, Dry July has become a mid-winter ritual: take abooze break and raise some money for cancer sufferers. What happens to us when we shun alcohol for a month? Jamie Morton finds out.
More than enough friends have trumpeted ambitious resolutions or diet plans on Facebook, only to crash out harder than the All Blacks at Cardiff in 2007.
Though it might not work for everyone, whenever I’ve enacted bold lifestyle changes, like kicking smoking or losing weight, I’ve stuck to a simple formula.
Don’t complicate, contemplate or communicate - just commit.
Announcing that I’ve hopped aboard the Dry July bandwagon might therefore seem a bit hypocritical, but I figured I could break my own rule in the name of science journalism.
A month-long booze ban doesn’t just offer an interesting experiment - I don’t think I’ve gone more than a week between drinks in my adult life - but something I can quiz experts about for the benefit of my fellow first-time abstainers.
Even with data showing a gradual downward trend in drinking, many of us still can’t pass up that end-of-day glass of beer or wine.
My preferred poison on these dark and cold winter evenings is a dram of whiskey.
If you’ve drank regularly for a long period of time like me, you’ll have built up tolerance - and it’s much more than just being able to hold your liquor.
It’s what Associate Professor David Newcombe describes as a “behavioural manifestation” of underlying changes to neuronal structures in our brains, which can occur even with relatively small quantities of alcohol if taken regularly.
“Alcohol affects many neurochemical systems in the brain and so the body compensates for this by reducing the sensitivity of the brain receptors,” explains Newcombe, of the University of Auckland’s Centre for Addiction Research.
“You can think of this as homeostasis - the bodies need to keep equilibrium.”
Contrary to the common notion that moderate levels of alcohol hold some health benefit, Newcombe stresses no amount of it is safe.
While the liver does a decent job of clearing acetaldehyde (the toxic chemical that our bodies break alcohol down into) regular boozing ultimately leads to health problems.
When we go cold turkey, what happens next depends on how much we’d been previously consuming, but also obvious factors like our age, gender and weight.
Young people might see a quicker physical recovery, but older adults can still reap bigger benefits because of their prolonged exposure to alcohol.
Because women generally have a lower alcohol tolerance, owing much to females having less body water, they’re likely to see more pronounced effects than men.
As a bloke in my late 30s who’s used to at least one standard drink a night - and often plenty more on the weekends - I’m told it shouldn’t be unusual to experience a mild withdrawal from suddenly quitting.
Again, this can vary among people: it might be barely noticeable, as it so far has been for me.
Or it might feel like a mild hangover, with light headaches, anxiety and higher blood pressure, that abates over a couple of days.
Moderate drinkers might not typically develop a strong physical dependence on alcohol, but they can have psychological habits they perhaps didn’t know were lurking there.
This, admittedly, is where I’ve found it toughest over the past week, despite stocking the fridge with non-alcoholic alternatives.
Unsurprisingly, it’s heavy drinkers who are more likely to face a bigger test when they stop.
Their withdrawal can bring symptoms like anxiety, tremors, sweating, nausea and - in particularly severe cases - seizures.
“These symptoms arise because the body has adapted to the presence of alcohol, and suddenly stopping disrupts this balance,” University of Auckland nutrition lecturer Dr Rajshri Roy says.
“Withdrawal can also affect the central nervous system, leading to hyperactivity.”
For those who’ve been heavy drinkers for a long time, or have chronic health conditions or take medication, it’s best to seek medical advice before quitting.
What rewards await us on the other side?
“A month without alcohol allows liver cells to recover from toxic injury caused by alcohol if the liver isn’t too damaged,” University of Auckland nutrition senior lecturer Dr Andrea Braakhuis says.
After a week, the risk of developing cardiovascular disease also decreases.
“Alcohol can raise blood pressure and strain the heart and brain volume increases by an average of 2% after six weeks of abstinence.”
After a month, moderate to heavy drinkers might also see improvements in insulin resistance and - given they’ve cut out all those empty calories - body weight.
“Alcohol is energy dense, meaning we can consume a lot of calories without really being aware,” Braakhuis says.
Without it, we might lose somewhere between 1kg and 4kg - but that doesn’t mean we’ve suddenly cleared space for junk food.
“A balanced diet is essential for overall health.”
Similarly, alcohol can hamper our exercise efforts: whether that’s impairing muscle recovery, dehydrating our bodies, or just reducing our overall physical performance.
I’m also curious to know whether stopping drinking will help with mood, which is a little ironic given I’ve always found alcohol to be calming.
I’m not alone there: nearly 95% of people report feeling happy when they drink.
“This is because alcohol forces our bodies to create an increased amount of serotonin and endorphins, which regulate our emotions and create a sense of relaxation and happiness,” Braakhuis says.
“However, nearly half of men and more than a third of women say they feel disgusted while drinking - and more than one in five people report feeling anxious after drinking.”
So, yes, while alcohol may initially make us feel relaxed and euphoric, too much of it can exacerbate mental health conditions like anxiety and depression.
And yes, abstaining can indeed boost mood.
We’re also likely to snooze more soundly: alcohol is known to disturb the physiological architecture of normal sleep, besides leaving us with a morning hangover if we’ve over-indulged.
I’ve got one last question.
Assuming I can make it through the rest of Dry July without reaching for that bottle of bourbon, what happens when I have my first drink in August?
Newcombe says I can expect to notice the effect of that hit of alcohol more acutely until my tolerance - and all the potential risk factors that comes with it - re-establishes.
It doesn’t have to be this way.
Indeed, a big part of Dry July is just taking a break from booze to see what life without it - or at least less of it - can look like.
“People can self-reflect and adopt healthier habits,” Roy tells me.
“But it’s important to view it as a starting point for long-term change rather than a one-off detox, as the benefits of reduced alcohol consumption are best maintained with consistent moderation, such as alcohol-free days every week if you’re an every-day drinker.”