Dear reader, I have to start this off by saying I normally don’t do diets. I will admit they are necessary evils if you’re looking to have a bangin’ bikini bod, but other than helping you look really hot, I’ve always seen diets as soul crushing, self-imposed torture.
Nevertheless, my happy habit of late night processed munchies courtesy of Taco Bell came to an abrupt stop as I checked my calendar two weeks ago. Late April, I had engaged in an hours-long battle with Ticketmaster’s website for the chance to purchase pre-sale tickets to superstar diva Beyoncé’s tour with her husband.
I decided that if I was to make the trek to Pasadena to witness Bey’s show, I wanted to look really good (Plus, I had this brilliant “before and after Beyoncé” internet meme in mind that I’m sure would have been a hit).
Two months after buying my tickets I have yet to actually hit the gym. I, naturally, spent a night Googling “how to get skinny fast” and after much research, found a site boasting about the results of juicing.
I am well aware cleanses are basically an acceptable term for starvation. Take the lemonade diet as an example: you don’t eat and are supposed to stay alive by drinking a mixture of lemons, cayenne pepper, honey and water.
Juicing, however, consists of using this huge juicing machine that sucks the juice and nutrients out of your vegetables and fruits and pours them into a container so you can drink them.
Let me be real and say I had never spent so much money on a single grocery trip. By the time the cashier totaled my inventory, my debit card had shriveled up into itself. One thing was clear: if I didn’t lose weight by actually juicing, I would lose it by breaking the bank and being too poor to afford to eat anything other than the juices I made.
The process of making the juice was actually pretty easy. I just threw everything into the machine after washing it. I hadn’t really looked up any recipes, since in my mind, all vegetables and fruits were healthy. I didn’t take into account, however, the fact that when you’re mixing juicing of different colors and consistencies, the result you get can be less than eye-pleasing. Let’s just say I received a couple of awkward stares as I carried my concoction around with me in a clear bottle.
My plan was to replace actually eating food with drinking my food. I would substitute each meal with about 20 ounces of juice, and I would enjoy one cheat day a week where I could eat actual solid foods, but try to keep it healthy.
The first day of my juicing adventure was arguably the best. I felt refreshed and light throughout the day. It might have been purely psychological, but I felt incredibly energetic throughout the days. When I went to bed, I was able to successfully knock out after a few minutes. This process continued for the next two days.
By the fourth day, I fell apart.
I believe that by not using my sense of taste (the taste of my juices were not really what I would call appetizing), my sense of smell heightened during that 96 hour period. Everywhere I went I could smell food—delicious food. I wanted it all.
I managed to resist during the first part of the fourth day, as it was a weekday and I had errands and responsibilities to uphold. Nevertheless, as the evening arrived and I relaxed at home, I was hit by feelings of withdrawal.
I tried to eat a few of my vegetables, thinking the act of chewing would stave off any more desires for processed food, but it was fruitless (pun intended). Moments after chewing the last bit of my carrot, my car pulled up to the nearest drive-thru.
There’s always the next tour.