I’m not much of a coffee fan. Before last month, I hadn’t had a cup in over a year. I certainly don’t drink it for the appreciation of some rare, organically grown, fair trade Peruvian specialty bean harvested from the base of the Andes. For me, the stimulating effects of caffeine are the sole purpose and I rarely found myself needing that kind of jolt.

Starbucks, one of the top sellers in the United States (and globally), never held much appeal. It had a reputation for overpriced products and often excessively bitter coffee. My personal experiences proved poor on most occasions. Sometime in college, I resolved to not patronize a corporation whose java was more expensive, less delicious and less accessible than Dunkin Donuts.

Coffee connoisseurs can castrate me for my consciously controversial, contradictory conception of quality, but I’m not unfamiliar with snobbery. I’ll never choose a Budweiser, Miller, Coors or other American Adjunct Lager over a merely mediocre craft brew. Single malt scotches only, please. Loose leaf tea for life!!! You get the point. But if something doesn’t taste good, it doesn’t taste good. No amount of evidence is more convincing than the proof on my own taste buds.

Old habits die hard and grudges are not easily lost to the annals. Coffee’s merits fell on deaf ears and Starbucks became the embodiment of why I hated it. I was convinced of some elaborate yuppie collusion meant to drive millions to consume a product they all secretly despised. Beliefs are tricky. They sink their claws in, take hold and it’s awfully hard to let them go.

A month ago, two things changed in my daily routine. I began running again (in addition to a consistent weight training regimen) and I resolved to up my word count per day. With a proper diet, the first was no sweat (deducting ten points for puns). Longer, grueling runs actually induce a stimulating high that temporarily counters the sheer amount of energy expended. It doesn’t last, though, and it certainly doesn’t compel me to knock out 2000 words in an evening. I needed something tangible, so I turned to the most cliche substance a writer can use (besides alcohol).

Coffee helped. It instantly made me more productive and I began to manage my schedule a lot better. Before long, I submitted to the inevitable and began to write at a table in the back of Starbucks, which was more convenient than any other option. I ordered a plain coffee with some whole milk and drank. It tasted good. Not just “I need this shot of stimulant to my system good,” but genuinely enjoyable. And at ~$2.50 for a large (I still won’t call it a Venti), it’s not unreasonable to have a cup every now and then.

Maybe Starbucks changed. Maybe I changed. Whatever the cause, I realized that keeping an open mind to change is never a bad thing.