So anyway, we’re on this 3-week cleanse. It’s not the Master Cleanse, that suicidal endeavor of which variations populate the internet like dandelions.
No, I actually do get to eat, and even function. I don’t have to lock myself in the bathroom or stock magazines next to a toilet. I even have the energy to get out of bed and go to the office! (It’s the little things.)
The Cleanse is interesting. After having our own personal Mardi Gras of sorts, what with bison, corn-based spaghetti noodles, tomato sauce with four cheeses, nightcapped with a bowl of ice cream and chocolate syrup, we took The Plunge.
Three weeks of anti-inflammatory, uber-organic, hypo-allergenic diet, the middle week of which is also vegan. Oh and let’s leave town for our monthly neuro class in Dallas right in the middle of that intense second week. Life just wasn’t interesting enough before.
(Bonus: Room Service is going to see our Vitamix blender and chocolate hemp milk and large canisters of cleansing protein supplement/antioxidant powder and go…who TF are these people??)
Surprisingly enough, I’m not ready to kill someone for the bread crumbs in their toaster or the milk in Murphy’s bowl. Nor am I craving those chocolate syrupy goodies immediately following dinner.
The toughest part is actually planning the meals and figuring out where to obtain such a tall order. What I thought would be the toughest part, dealing with the cravings for various foods at various times, is a piece of (gluten-free vegan) cake. There are no cravings. None.
With the cravings disappeared half my appetite, too. I have no idea why.
Then again, a salad isn’t exactly ice cream. My dinner plate has maybe 2/3 the food it did before, and I don’t really need dessert. The only meal that hasn’t changed is breakfast. Hey, I’ve got a good thing going with a fruit and veggie smoothie with rice and pea protein powder; if it ain’t broke don’t fix it.
At the beginning, I said, “you watch–I’m going to feel so good on this diet that I’ll have to stay on it forever.” See, my usual curse is that the universe plays with me in said strange ways. It had my fate by the balls and it knows it. Naturally, all I was trying to do was head it off at the pass by actually voicing it. Joke’s on me, because that’s exactly what happened.
See, I tried to fit into my skinny jeans and at first, I had it in the bag. There I was laying on the bedroom floor with my skinny jeans zipped up (zipped up!) and then I had to go and do sort of a lay-up to get up. At that point, it was all over, but hey–I also knew that when I went to pull up those jeans they wouldn’t just stop halfway up my thighs like they did two weeks ago. There is Hope. We’ve made Progress.