DAY 3
I was asleep by 8:30PM on day two. I woke up briefly for a call and to answer a few emails and was out cold again by 9:30PM. In the morning, I did feel quite thin and de-bloated, for which I was very grateful. I had a little kick in my step for at least 11 minutes before I was pissed again.
11:59AM: Google told me that day two of a detox is the hardest, and that if you can get through day two, the rest is smooth sailing. Google lies. Today, I have had it. I’ve had a Swamp Man smoothie and fermented grass juice, a thick, purple Beauty booster, and more juice made from beets, ginger and apples. I feel like I am drinking spicy hemoglobin. I am attending a one-year-old’s birthday dinner tonight and I fear for her safety. Almost anything could be mistaken for a marshmallow at this point. I’m so hungry that I actually can’t stop screaming about how hungry I am and I’m angry at all of the people of the world who didn’t join me in making this sacrificial (read: STUPID) investment.
4:30PM: I cough through my last green smoothie, hours early. The end is near. My mind drifts peacefully into tomorrow morning and I envision myself driving straight to McDonald’s, then GPSing my way to some cinnamon rolls. Maybe I’ll drop by my donut spot(s) if there’s time. This fantasy is the only thing that has kept me going for the last 48 hours. According to most detox programs you should ease back into normal eating patterns and not even really eat anything beyond fruits and steamed vegetables for several days. Again, I signed up for three days of torture ONLY, and I fully intend to face-plant into all of the processed foods as soon as this ends.
7:00PM: I take the risk and arrive at the birthday dinner. By 7:30PM, there are snacks: chips, almonds, cheese a plenty, grapes… it (blissfully) goes on. I decide it’s time to fall on the sword. You win, detox. Checkmate. My allotment of sh*ts to be given has been waning over the past few hours. I knew I wouldn’t make it through this night without dinner hours ago, but I tried to lie to myself just a bit longer. I’ve been hungry or nauseous for three days and I want to get inside this tantalizing bowl of chips and make it mine. I pretty much do.
8:15PM: Dinner is ready: salad, roasted sweet potatoes, grilled bbq chicken, corn on the cob, roasted nectarines, warm buttered bread. I eat with reckless restrained abandon, only because my stomach hurts from re-introducing myself back into the world of solid food by consuming half a family-sized bag of chips. I could have chosen nuts and grapes but by that time it was the Full Monty or committed starvation.
DAY 4
In conclusion, I gained back two of the four pounds I lost after eating dinner, but I was so fat from cheese naan the night before I started my detox that I had an inflated starting weight to begin with. What I am saying here is that I am really just back to my normal weight. I feel the same as I always feel: hungry, antisocial, slightly misanthropic- just $180 poorer. I’m still slightly irritated that I went against everything I believe in to try to fit in with the type of people who subscribe to Goop. I don’t long for a green smoothie. I will never long for a green smoothie. I long for the freedom to eat like a fat kid. What did we learn here, kids? Detoxes are weird and highly uncomfortable, and (almost) three days of liquid starvation won’t change your life. It’s going to take a hell of a lot more suffering than that and I’m the wrong girl for the job.
Long live carbs!
Gif credit: Simone Rovellini Exploding Actresses
