Tuesday, January 24, 2012

so-called cleanse.


In an effort to counter the effects of the holidays- and against my better judgment, I decided to do a juice cleanse. Knowing many people that swear by them, I thought I'd finally give it a try. 

After morning yoga at the Soup, I was ready to take on the challenge. Because I don't own a juicer (and never will), I drove straight to the nearest juice bar. I was going to pay someone to juice my juice.  I looked at the extensive juicing menu- having to squint my eyes to read the infinitesimally long descriptions.  I picked the first thing that sounded remotely palpable, with over 10 different vegetables and ginger. While I was waiting, I thought about grabbing a sandwich, but then remembered that I was on a cleanse. Damn.


Once my juice was juiced, I grabbed the cup, only to realize that it was warm. Gross. Who even does that?  I quickly asked for some ice cubes to make my juice less tepid in temp. The juice lady looked down her nose at me. Clearly I was not a seasoned juice drinker.

By the time I got home, I had gotten through about half of my juice. I added more ice cubes and chugged the rest- definitely the hardest thing I've done all year. I realized then that I was still famished. If anything, the juice had made me hungrier.

An hour and a half later, my juice cleanse ended with some chips & salsa. I prefer to eat my food rather than sip it anyway.




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