I quit

In Wisconsin, we call it soda. Seemingly everywhere else in the Midwest, it's pop. Down south, they just call it Coke.

I call it toxic and, as of today, I call it history.

I've been slowly dialing back my sipping since New Year's, and it's time to officialy curb stomp the carbonation.

If you reside under a rock, you might ask why. It's hardly a news flash that soda is bad for you. It's chock full of empty calories, and the sugar and sodium content is nothing short of jarring. But something I didn't realize is that opting for diet over regular isn't much of an upgrade. In fact, in the long haul, it's potentially more destructive than the regular stuff.

I've relied on diet soda's caffeine as fuel for long work shifts and, before I started consciously dialing back, I'd go through a couple cans per night. About a week ago, I had a regular soda and coudn't have drank another if you paid me. It pointed out that, while diet soda lacks calories, it creates crazy cravings.

It also substitutes the sweetener aspartame for sugar. Don't take from me why aspartame is integral in the decay of Western Civilization. Click and read.

I'm going to keep this post short, as there's oodles of resources on the Web that can better explain why I'm quitting soda.

But in closing, I've turned soda into a crutch. Long night upcoming? Grab a soda. Butt starting to drag? Soda time.

No more. How will I fix it? Well, I'm still figuring that out. Coffee is far from a perfect substitute, but in extreme cases, I'll turn to it.

The biggest weapon I have in this battle is my pride and how much I cherish my health. I'm done turning my body into a landfill.

So goodbye soda, pop, or whatever folks call you. I won't be calling you - period - anymore.