i started a raw food (read: gentle) detox this week. i read all about how ‘transformative’, ‘energizing’, eye-opening, addiction-breaking, fabulous, slimming, beautifying it is. blah, blah, blah. i hate hype.
i want to learn how to eat better. how to nourish my body, my family, better. and if i lose a few el-bees in the process, great. i’m a girl who likes her veggies (thanks, Mom!), and with summer on the way, fresh produce is cheaper and more readily available on the prairie. so i checked out The Raw Food Detox Diet by Natalia Rose. learned a lot, raised my eyebrows at a few things (i am so not getting a colonic, i don’t care how lively you feel afterward), but decided it’s worth a shot.
everything they say is true. and it’s only been a few days so far. i have incredible energy (and i’m still eating a ‘cooked’ supper – with meat!), don’t even need coffee (after three days of mild headaches), and am not spending hours in the bathroom. i’m not hungry, am sleeping better, am slightly more focused, my crater-sizes pores are shrinking, my hair is shinier, and i look a little better when i don’t have makeup on. 🙂 did i mention my stomach is flattening by the day? a girl could get used to this!
i should revise the above statement to say: everything they say is true except for this: green lemonade is not tasty to me. i can’t stomach it. in the proportions recommended, the taste of chlorophyll is strong and nauseating. and, according to my ‘detox level’, i’m supposed to be drinking 40 ounces of this a day. forget it. i’m working on modifying the recipe to something i can stand (apples/lemons/cucumbers) and drinking a glass of V-8 instead (not raw, but come on). also, this way of eating would be even easier if ya lived in Californ-eye-ay. i have to be creative about not blowing our grocery budget. it isn’t easy for us, but it’s doable for the summer, at least. (%#$@ rising food prices!)
so. i raise my daily quart of green smoothie to a healthier me. here’s hoping a few months of this really makes a difference and banishes this baby weight once and for all. spare tires aren’t cute unless you’re the Michelin man. and even then, he just looks like a fat mummy.