Based on an alarmingly accurate poll that I made up for this column, nearly 85 percent of adults between the ages of 18 and 25 are inadequately hydrated. This might not seem like a big deal - after all, eight glasses of water a day seems absurd - but what may at first glance seem like a harmless condition is, in actuality, a very real and rampant condition - one that I realized this weekend.
To give you a rough scale of the magnitude of this issue, I ask you to check your surroundings. If you are currently in a University library, take note of all of your sleeping companions - the studious guy to your left "reading" his biology textbook, the girl who's been stuck on the same page of "Bleak House" for the past hour-and-a-half, the guy on the sofa holding an empty bag of Cheetos. Every last one of them is probably dehydrated. It's that bad. And what's worse is this problem has been and continues to be exacerbated by global warming.
As impressive and thought-provoking as these facts - or whatever they are - may be, I'm not just here to throw empty statistics into your face. Studies show that for every five statistics the average student receives daily, three of them are utterly meaningless. The other three are inaccurate. My purpose is something greater: to propose a solution to this increasing dehydration and to purify today's clouded and fatigued youth.
The solution is simple, really: drink. This answer was never so obvious to me, or so easy for that matter. Plagued by a bit of an overactive bladder paired with a lack of desire to have my belly embarrassingly sloshing as I shifted weight in class, I avoided drinking even a fraction of the liquid I should consume in a given day. I condemned the eight glasses as urban legend. Spoiler alert: It's not.
Let's come clean. Think about the last time you had 2 to 3 liters of beer. Now think about the last time you had 2 to 3 liters of water. Apparently beer doesn't count as water (I know, me too). I undoubtedly fall into the category of dehydrated young adults, a position unbeknownst to me until a troubling 8 p.m. incident last week.\nTo recap the story of my liquid wake-up call: I had coffee at 5 p.m., packed my bags, thought about grabbing a drink for the road but decided against it (hamartia). I arrived at my sister's apartment complex in Harrisonburg, Va. after a tumultuous drive through the rain. Mind you, I really like the rain. What I don't like is the sea-spray that flies off of the tractor trailer in front of you and reduces your visibility to -2 percent. But back to basics. I walked through the door, gave her some pink and white wildflowers and Ferrero Rocher chocolates. I threw down my bag which contained a toothbrush, a pair of PJs, a change of clothes for the next day, my wallet, two books and a spool of dental floss. The night was going beautifully, and ice cream from Kline's was in the very near future. Life was ideal, or something like it. And then ... The rest was a blur. A dehydration-induced pass-out complete with seizure-like symptoms, a 911 phone call, a four-hour trip to the ER and a necessary late-night run by Wendy's.
One minute I'm sitting in my sister's room, sharing good conversation and good times, the next I'm that paralyzed kid in the wheelchair in the ER telling the nurse how I feel like I'm going to wet my pants. All of this caused by my stubbornness and refusal to hydrate? I could have died. Seriously. Just ask my sister.
From now on, I'll consume the recommended eight glasses of water a day - I carry around a one liter Dasani bottle everywhere now. And I'll do so with a bloated stomach and a smile on my well-hydrated face.
Kathleen's column runs biweekly Thursdays. She can be reached at k.baines@cavalierdaily.com.
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