The Slowest Fast Known to Humankind

Recently, I attempted the inconceivable. No, I didn’t try to abide by the serving size suggested by “doctors” on the peanut butter jar...I tried one of those damn juice cleanses. At a BBQ during July 4th weekend, my friend Emma and I declared (while inhaling a hot dog battered in beer in the same way I imagine whales quaff krill) that come Tuesday, we’d make up for all this debauchery with a 3-day juice cleanse. It all seemed so daring and exciting four cocktails in. Come Tuesday, the excitement was nothing but a figment of our imagination.

While normally we leave anything we spoke about in one of our drunken stupor’s in the past, along with what’s left of our dignities, we realized we might have taken things too far when SOMEBODY thought it was a good idea to bring alcohol-infused Funfetti cake with SPECULOOS FROSTING. Whoever you are, I want to kiss you, and kill you.

Before we could wrap our heads around the unfeasible journey we were embarking on, we paid $189 dollars to be absolutely miserable for three days. There are SO many fricken’ juice cleanses out there now-a-days (seriously, they’re popping up like Starbucks in urban cities), we were a little overwhelmed when picking our poison, but we ended up landing on the Juice Shop Cleanse. The three-day cleanse (fast) consisted of 102 liquid ounces a day of algae elixirs and local, organic cold-pressed concoctions that came in dainty glass bottles in flavors like kale and celery, beet and carrots, pear and chia seed and, the utter ambrosia, raw almond and Himalayan salt. They promised detoxification, recalibration, and regeneration, and since neither of us knew what any of those words meant, we thought it was the obvious choice.

So, how did it go? If I could compare my experience to another’s, I imagine it would be similar to a bear coming out of hibernation for 8 months and not being allowed to eat until they are willing to kill their cub for food. Are you wondering whether or not you should embark on this preposterous journey? Well, before you do, let me tell you about my own experience so you know what lunacy you’re getting yourself into.

Day 1:
Morning: I wake up unsurprisingly anxious about this challenge. I am repeating a mantra of “you can do this, you’ve been awake for an hour,” in my head, and I’m feeling wired and confident. Downed my first juice, ironically pondered about how “this is a piece of cake,” and was on my way for some “light exercise.”

Mid-Morning: I have no idea what the hell light exercise is, I run 4 miles and have to actively tear myself away from the treadmill. Feeling good from the exercise endorphins, but also have a pit in my stomach with the message “what have you just done...”

Lunch: Downing my second juice of the day and I’m still feeling pretty swell. Thinking this whole thing might be a breeze for a tenacious nugget like me. Life is good. Bless up.

Dinner: OH MY GOD I AM DILAPITATING. The “I am feeling good and ready to take on this challenge” feeling fades faster than it began. I am god damn STARVING. My stomach is growling incessantly and I drank enough herbal tea to drown a small village.

Day 2:

Morning: I am savoring every single tiny chia seed swimming in my morning juice.  I desperately attempt to reach the ones on the very bottom of the stupid bottle with my tongue before I realize I resemble a seagull picking up scraps in the garbage.

Lunch: I start fasting on the Juice fast. The Deep Greens will not go down, no way, no how.

Dinner: Irritable is the understatement of the past twenty-two years of my existence. I can’t talk. I can’t think. The only thing I can do is scroll through the best food accounts on Instagram and dream of a day when I am no longer in chained to the chair that is health. I am also thanking Jesus, Mary, and whoever else wants to listen that I didn’t work out today because yesterday, that resulted in a ravenous lion that only Sex and The City and 10 mg of Melatonin could tame.

Day 3:
Morning: I cannot go in public. I will physically assault somebody.

Lunch: I have a persistent headache that I think is here to stay, but I’m not so much thinking about food anymore. I’m thinking about the end goal and how tomorrow could possibly be the best day of my life. Not only do I get to reunite with my significant other, but I also get to speak to my family and friends again without wanting to throw them off a cliff. I’m also itching to get back to the gym, even though I am getting out of breath just walking up a flight of stairs. I start to feel extremely proud of myself until I snap back to reality and realize this race is not finished.

Dinner: I imagine it was similar to somebody running the last mile of the Iron Man: Gluttony is within fingertip distance. Do. Not. F***. This. Up.

Takeaway: I really just wanted to see if I could do it. And yeah, I can do it, but that’s if I don’t make any sudden movements, speak to anybody, or leave my bedside for 3 days straight. This is never happening again, so savor that sm