Pass me the water...
Hydration, Like Golf, is Best Enjoyed with Flexibility and Fun in mind
It starts with this, "How much water have you been drinking?"
Defensively, I opted for a tort reply, "Enough." Knowing full well that my enough is not enough.
"You look tired; I can see it in your eyes," or, in this case, I can't see your eyes.
"Yep, it was a long day, hot and windy." I knew what was next, "Did you wear sunglasses?" They would be the expensive ones. Truth be known, misplacing them would be emotionally and financially disastrous! Sheepishly, I replied, "Yes, of course I did."
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Now, first, establish some context. Water consumption back in the day was something you did after Mrs O'Rourke had filled a cavity: sip, swirl, rinse, then repeat. The sooner you could exit the dentist's chair, the better; this might be the root of my long-held distrust of water intake.
Fast forward to 2024, and let's be honest: if you're not seen constantly sipping from a 600mL water bottle, who are you, where have you been, and how do you expect to remain relevant in the face of such personal negligence?
Science suggests bad stuff arrives in threes. Sunday just gone, I picked up a wellness magazine that a crafty shop assistant had stashed in my recent Chemist Warehouse order; a random page open took me to an article spruiking the benefits of summer hydration—clearly, the author wasn't a resident of Geelong! Later in the day, I had a sudden aversion to lounging. I jumped into my email to reduce my unread inbox by at least a thousand, only to be re-directed by a New York Times article titled ", "How much water should I be drinking? And finally, there was the morning lecture, summarised above. Bang, bang, bang.
The question begs, "What to do?"
I immediately left the house searching for a retail location that stocked the Frank Green Ceramic Reusable Bottle in either 595mL or 1000mL size. I preferred green; I was sure this was their trendiest look. I didn't factor in Sundays in Geelong, the day after a "Beer Festival." It was a ghost town, and earlier, evidently there had been a run on FG water bottles!
That's BS; I just sat on the couch and waited for fresh inspiration to get me through a slow Sunday.
That sought inspiration hastily evaporated into an afternoon nap; it was here that I experienced the most bizarre happenings.
Snoozing contently, the trials of water consumption and vessels to hold them could not have been further from my mind. I found myself drifting between the short par three third and the dog leg right thirteenth at Keney Park, in Hartford, Connecticut—if you find yourself in the once Insurance capital of the world, you must play Keney Park, just don't stop to ask anyone for directions!
All was well, then suddenly, a tap on the shoulder. "Who could it be?" I was startled to see the shop assistant who planted the wellness magazine, which then led to the summer hydration article!
"Hello again," the voice said. "I hear you've been looking for a Frank Green?" "I have one." she smiled as she reached into her tote bag and produced the 1000mL version in a delightful shade of green. Now, initially, I need clarification. Did I play with Frank Green at Keney; was he a member of the Cognomen—a disparate golfing group I played with? No, this was the ceramic water bottle brand preferred by the millennials.
How did she know all this? Was she, too, a secret member of the 'wellness tribe.'
Inexplicably, it seems her daughter had gifted the Frank Green to her, and now, because it was the wrong size, she wanted me to have it. "It's yours if you like," she said, smiling again! You usually wish for dreams to continue, not here.
Enough of this wellness mumbo jumbo; return me to Keney Park and its Cognomen.
Next minute I was awake, unable to morph myself back to the 'Old Girl'—that's Keney Park's moniker—leaving only the persuasive presence of an empty Frank Green drink bottle to connect the last 20 minutes with the day's earlier madness.
I had an inkling this was one of those gentle nudges from mother universe. Holy crap, I'm losing my mind!
I mentioned bad stuff comes in threes. That may not be 100% true.
The day before Sunday—Saturday—I was working (loosely, more like watching cricket) when an injured player, now acting as a coach, commented on the inadequacies of the water supply in Geelong, compared to Hobart (Tasmania), where he recently lived. The player on the other side of the conversation is a non-drinker (alcohol) who knows his water quality. Being a Geelong local, Callum rightly defended its credibility. Enter me: I suggested to Eamonn that he invest in a water filter, purely on the premise that I have one, courtesy of the above water-police. Saturday's game was at Casey Fields, where, for the first time I can remember, there were water machines in the away team's rooms (locker room)—this, another omen in the case of, "Drink more water, please."
Whether you're drinking from a ceramic tumbler or your Grandma's glassware, I remain convinced there is no "one-size-fits-all" answer to the convoluted question of 'how much water is enough'.
Research says that, on average, most adult men should consume around 3.7 litres of water daily; for women, it's about 2.7 litres.
My contrite position on this is backed up by Dr. Siddharth P. Shah, a nephrologist at the University of Pennsylvania Hospital specialising in hydration and electrolyte balance. He says, "Most people, even if they stay below that recommendation, will be just fine," Thank you, doctor!
A final question on the subject, where we have just scratched the surface. What happened to the term "Thirsty?" Or, "Being Thirsty."
More from Dr Siddharth P. Shah: he suggests as people get older, they lose the ability to realise when they are thirsty, leading to an inability to manage hydration competently.
In summary—while the wellness brigades champion drinking fixed volumes of water daily, I conclude that proper hydration is a far more intuitive process. Rather than obsess over numerical targets, listen to your body's signals and drink satisfactorily. Now, I know where you're heading here; this isn't about validating an excessive alcohol habit; it's merely trying to highlight the need for a common sense approach and one that is less visible than the Frank Green fan club.
Dry mouths are a simple cue to replenishment. And if strange dreams of roaming golf courses and unexpected shop assistants persist, it's best to seek balance in all things rather than falling down an anxiety-inducing rabbit hole of do's and don'ts.
Like much in life, hydration is best enjoyed in moderation with flexibility, mindfulness and good humour. If you'll excuse me, I'm off to the clubhouse for a restorative glass of something a little more appealing than Frank H2O! Cheers to your health.
Ps. Geelong won that game of cricket on Saturday, and the non-drinker, Callum, is having a fantastic season.
As always, thank you for being here.