There Is No "Try"


For the past four weeks-28 full days- I've been on a Juice Fast.    I've felt better than I have in a long time.  I have gone through the proverbial "cleanse and detoxification" process- pretty much with ease.  Oh, I won't say it was all easy, but in hindsight, I can see it was probably easier than I would have ever thought possible.  Admittedly, the first few days were the toughest, as I was convinced I would never survive without solid food in my stomach.  The truth is, my tummy stayed pretty full, between the juices and the water I had to drink.  But I was solidly convinced I would never survive not enjoying the taste and texture of my favorite foods.  And I was sure I'd feel horribly slighted when I opted to miss several dinner invitations, one cook-out and our family reunion, all of which were centered, of course, around food.  I've always known, but it was confirmed, that I eat when I'm not even hungry.  I eat just to please my mouth.  But during this past month, I realized that just about- well, let's not exaggerate here- about a hundred times a day, my thoughts had turned to food...again.  Normally, during those times, I would go to the kitchen, find a bite or two of whatever was available in the fridge, and walk away.  I was satisfied.  That is, I was satisfied until the next thought of food entered my head, which would sometimes be just an hour or two. 

My doctor has a sign posted in his office which reads,
"Just because you are hungry, doesn't mean you have to eat.
And when you aren't hungry, you don't have to eat, either!"

How appropriate for me. How appropriate for maybe you, too?

The truth is, this juice fast has made me realize my life is consumed with thoughts of food.  There's another saying I've latched onto:

"Do you eat to live?? Or....do you live to eat?!"  (My eyes shift back and forth, sideways, when I hear that one, as I'm sure everyone's looking directly at me.)  There's no doubt I have lived to eat.  I just absolutely love, love, love eating.  And let me add, the pleasure of being able to eat at a restaurant- where someone else can cook for me, serve it to me, and clean up the mess afterward, is my idea of a "hot" date!

Ah...but I digress.

I had originally committed to a ten-day fast.  The truth is, I wasn't sure I could last the whole ten days.  But I went out on a limb and told several people I was going to begin on May 1st.  I was so uncertain of my own tenacity that I didn't tell them I would strive to last ten days.  That way, I could save face- not if, but- when I quit.  As I began the first few days, I was even angry with myself for having told anyone at all.  In retrospect, though, it was definitely the smartest thing I could've done, as it held me accountable to someone other than myself. I know me well enough to know:  I would have taken the disappointment in stride if it was just me affected.  But, the bigger reasons I hung in there were for my children and my husband.  I love them all so much and wanted them all to be proud of me.  I, in no way, wanted to disappoint any of them.  And I know that each of them quietly wished I would take better control of my eating habits and live healthier and longer.

During the first few days, I ignored my bathroom scale.  I knew if I deprived myself of solid food, and visited the scale daily only to find 1/2 pound or so gone, it wouldn't be enough of an accomplishment to keep me motivated.  Instead, I had promised myself I would visit the scale only if I made a full 7 days.  So I continued, and as each day came to a close, I'd rush into bed, to "put myself out of my (imagined) misery," because when I awakened the following morning, I would be able to say, "I made another day."  And that was a great strategy, as it turned out.  Because on rising each morning, that's exactly what I told myself.  And the momentum had begun.  Make it through another day and in the morning, it's a new day.  Make it through that day, go to bed, and in the morning, it's a new day.  And so on.

Once I got to day five or six, I had told myself I just had to hang in there then and that I could certainly get to day seven, at which point I could weigh myself.  So I did.  When I stepped on the scale the 8th morning, I was pleasantly surprised to see I had dropped ten pounds!  Wow...I was pumped!  Then, I told myself, "You can make it to the 10 days you originally committed to now!"  And I went for it.  In retrospect, I can see now, I had begun to feel better and better, as the cleansing and healing was taking place in my body.  When I made it to day 10, I ignored the scale.  And I told myself, "Well, you can make it to day 14 now, and get to weigh again!"  So I did.  And then when I got to day 14, I said, "Well, now you can make it to 21, so you can weigh again."  And then, of course, "Well, you can now do the entire month of May!" 

Last night, the 29th of May, I was still juice fasting.  Unfortunately, I allowed thoughts of one of my favorite foods to get the better of me.  Normally, I would push the thoughts away as they entered my head.  But this time, I didn't.  I will admit that I, in part, consciously chose to eat.   I began a debate within my own mind and convinced myself that I had done so well, juice fasting for four whole weeks.  (Which I have)  I convinced myself that I could eat.  (which I did)  And I convinced myself that I can start juice fasting again on June 1st- just 2 days away- in order to continue with the healing of my body.  (Which I will)  For a while,  I felt a little disappointed in myself for buckling.  Especially since the pleasure from eating was so short-lived. But I'm past all that now.  The truth is, any disappointment I initially felt is totally negated by my sense of accomplishment.  I've lost 22 pounds of ugly weight, slimmed my waistline, arms, back, shoulders, hips, lessened the tremendous burden I had placed on my heart, lungs and other vital organs, and gained a whole new sense of how to eat more healthily in the future in order to maintain a healthier, more productive lifestyle. And just as importantly, I've reminded myself that I can, now, finish up what I orginally started.



My advice to anyone reading this who is considering a juice fast to cleanse and heal their body (of which, the wonderful by-product is weight loss!):

Do it!!!  You'll never regret it.  And don't believe you can't.  For you might not know it yet, but I know....you can.  You can!  Whether you will or not, is up to only you. 

Remember:

You will...or you won't.  There is no "try."

It Ain’t Bacon

Sunday Morning.  My favorite. 

I live in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina.  We’re out in the proverbial, “boonies.”  Some might think it’s boring.  Sometimes I might even feel that way.  But as is with nearly everything, reality is but a state of mind.  If you think it’s boring, it is.  If you think it isn’t, it isn’t.  Most often, however, I think it’s quiet, serene, peaceful.   And I’m most content in that peace.

Peace in my life just fills my soul. It's definitely one of the most coveted things in my life. My husband, who is a farm-bred country boy,  just doesn’t understand such “deep” thoughts,  and just smiles at me when I tell him how peace in my life just “enhances my harmony.”

I sit, in my rocker, on the covered front porch, contemplating life-  my physical health, my beautiful children, my family, the green beauty of the trees that sway in the gentle morning breeze, the glory of Mother Earth, and my spiritual relationship with God.  And all is good with the world- in my world. Well, that is to say, all is well except for one thing.

I want me some bacon!!  Yeah, bacon!  Good ol’ country-style, melt-in-your-mouth-‘cause-it’s-so-crispy, cast-iron-skillet-fried, dripping-in-grease, thick-cut BACON!    And biscuits.  I want me some buttery, crispy-on-the-outside-moist-and-tender-on-the-inside biscuits!  And scrambled eggs- with butter and cheese and hot sauce!  Oh, and onions!  And I gotta say, I wouldn’t mind some good ol’ only-in-the-south-drizzled-in-butter grits- seasoned of course, with bacon.

You see, I grew up with folks who fully appreciated the taste of good old, "down-home" Southern-style cooking.  Memories of going to my Grandma’s house are sweet, where we entered her home and more often than not, the aroma of a big pot of greens, with a big ol’ piece of fatback thrown in for seasoning, filled the air.  And as a child, Sunday supper meant fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans (seasoned, of course, with bacon,) deviled eggs and hot biscuits dripping in home-canned jelly. And no supper was complete with the legendary southern sweet tea.   And if there happened to be any fried chicken left over, which was rare, it was served the following day- cold grease and all- with potato salad and baked beans, which also were seasoned with good ol’ bacon.  The truth is, you can’t beat bacon.  And you can’t beat bacon grease.  It’s a staple in southern kitchens…right up there with flour, sugar milk and eggs.  And I have to admit, I have a Mason jar of it in the fridge, even as I speak….er, write.

My father and his siblings went right from mother’s breast milk to bacon grease.  It was used to season most anything- beans, greens, taters, (don’t look it up..it ain’t in Webster’s) bread, squash, zucchini, cornbread, eggs. 

With a little deeper contemplation, I’m certain God gave us the cows and all the animals and then He probably stood back, thought about it a bit and said, “Hmmm..there’s something missing.”  Then he gave us the pigs, because He just knew we were gonna need that bacon grease.

My attention is brought back to the present, as a beautiful bluebird soars across the sky over my front yard and perches in the Crepe Myrtle.  I look down at my morning breakfast which I hold in my hand.  Mean Green.  Mean Green juice, comprised of kale, cucumber, celery, green apples, lemon and ginger.  And I sigh. At least it's in a Mason jar.  I hold my breath and chug down a few more ounces.  Because I should.  Because it’s good for me.  Because it’s full of needed nutrients.  But I gotta tell ya…

It ain’t Bacon.

CAUTION! Juicing May Be Hazardous To Your Health!

I had seen a plant, a few weeks ago,  growing near the creek at the “bottom” of our land,  and though I couldn’t take time to stop and examine it that day, I reminded myself to check it out another day.  Its leaves looked like some sort of mint- maybe peppermint or spearmint.  If it was, in fact, I would dig it up and bring it up to the house to be transplanted here in our garden.  Then, I could experiment and maybe be able to enjoy it in some of my juices!  

Today, being such a bea-uuu-tiful morning, I decided to take my “boys,” Kodi and Augie, two of my closest buddies-  Kodi, we rescued and Augie, our Blue Heeler- on a ride on the golf cart to identify, and if necessary, retrieve that plant.

I gathered my cellphone (in case of emergency!) my camera (in case I needed to capture some wonderful natural surprise!) my hand spade and my gloves.  I told my boys, “Let’s go for a ride!” and as always, they took off in a mad dash to see who would take shotgun this time.  Kodi won, as usual.

The ride was enjoyable.  The boys were happy , both riding along with their noses jutted up into the air, taking in all the scents that elude our human senses.  I took a few photos of edible plants and things to share with my Juicy Peeps online. 

For my boys’ enjoyment, we took the “scenic route,” all around the yard, down the driveway, back up the other driveway, around the flower garden, around both vegetable gardens, around the outbuildings.  When we got down to the bottom, we got off the golf cart and walked all along the creek bank and took a few pictures.  Negotiating the tall weeds was tricky in spots, as it was all overgrown now, unlike earlier in the spring when we could see every new plant coming up.  Sad to say, but what I thought might be peppermint or spearmint turned out to be a weed.

When we rode back up from the bottom land, I decided to treat the boys to a bit longer ride, since they   so love it.  So I circled our five-acre property a few times, zipping along quite fast, cutting corners short and laughing, in the wind, at my boys,  because even though they loved it, both of them had learned to hunker down and brace themselves and hang on for dear life when Mommy goes fast. 

But all good things must come to an end and this was no exception.  I parked the cart in the old barn and we all jumped down to head back for the house.  I gathered up my gloves,  camera , the hand spade and my Android……..uh, wh…where’s my Android?  WHERE THE HELL IS MY ANDROID??!!!!  It, unfortunately, was nowhere to be seen.

I looked over the whole golf cart.  No phone.  I checked my pockets, as I thought I had put it in my sweater pocket.   I checked my pockets again.  I was in such a state of shock, I’m not completely sure here,  but I think I might have even checked ‘em a third time!  No phone. HOLY COW!!!  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!  We had just made a eight-mile trek, round and round again,  all over God’s creation, from the top to the bottom, literally, and back again.  And I had to now WALK every step of it to try to find my cellphone?!  Now here’s where I need to insert some information:

The “top” land is our yard, it’s about 3 acres and mowed.  The “bottom” land is the other SEVERAL  ACRES!  That’s not the worst part.  The worst part is……(yes, I’m shouting here)  IT AIN’T MOWED!!!!!!!!!!  It’s all weeds and those bad boys are at least 2 feet tall, due to all the rain we’ve enjoyed lately!

My mind was racing.  I ran into the house and got the cordless phone and went back out to the barn to begin tracing back over our path.  I dialed my cellphone and as I dialed, I said aloud to God, “Now God, I know we’re not supposed to make deals with you, but here’s the deal:   If you’ll just pleeeease help me find that cellphone I’ll sing your praises to everyone I meet today.”  I dialed the cell number and turned my ear to the wind to listen for the ringtone melody I had downloaded months earlier.  Nothing.  Holy cow. 

“Start walking.”  I’m sure I heard Nancy Sinatra’s voice in my mind.

And so it began….my lonnnnng walk back around, over and through the property.  About twelve miles’  worth.  Every now and then, I’d hit redial and turn my ear up to the sky again.   Nothing.  Nothing.  Nothing.  I found myself talking aloud now:

“Are you serious?!  I mean, I’m juicefeasting.  And while I’m detoxing, I’m supposed to be KIND to my body…NOT go on a fifteen-mile hike!   And this is ALL because I thought mint might be good with my juice!”

 I began to swear. A lot.  Aloud.   

And that might be why God said, “You’re on your own now, Kiddo.  Shame on you,  Potty Mouth.”

Down the driveway.  To the road.  Up the other drive.  Around the front yard. Through “Mama’s Garden.”  Down through the orchard.  Parallel the back garden.   Down around the barn and outbuildings.  I just didn’t know if I could make this seventeen-mile hike all in one day. Things were looking grim.  I was getting desperate, as I was quickly running out of mowed lawn and was fast approaching overgrown, weed-covered Never-Never Land.

Suddenly, like a choir from Heaven, I heard it.  Oh my goodness….I stepped into those tall weeds like a new fawn, fearless and oblivious to the possibility that snakes or other not-so-pleasant creatures might be there, just waiting for an unsuspecting creature like me to make a mistake.  

But I couldn’t think about that.  All I could think about, with a big smile on my face now, is how much I loved the song that was wafting through the air.  I zeroed in on the sweet, instrumental sounds .  Percy Faith.  Theme From A Summer Place.  Circa  1960.  The one song in all of time that takes me back to the sweetest, most carefree and lovely time of my childhood-  swimming, boating and crab feasts on the banks of the Potomac River in Southern Maryland;  Percy Faith over the loud speakers perched in the trees overlooking the river bank, and me, surrounded by family, and my mama and daddy, who were both living then.  Life was good.   Life was simple.  Life was sweet.  And I—was a happy girl. 

For a moment, I stood still there, in the warm sunshine, not in any hurry to pick up the phone,listening to that song. And when I closed my eyes, I could see my parents’ smiling faces. When it stopped, I opened my eyes and realized I had been smiling, too. 

As I slowly began to walk the 50 yards or so back toward the house, three things occurred to me:

I’m a happy girl, NOW, too.

God is great.

And, I need a big, tall, cool juice.

Where I Am


I am on Day Six.  Somehow, it seems more impressive when I spell out the number- six, instead of 6. Getting here wasn't easy, especially in the beginning.


The first day of this journey, I was full of regret, truly.  I wished I hadn't committed to this juicing thing.  I wanted food; real food!  And I kicked my butt all day long because I had publicly told folks I was gonna "do this!"  So I couldn't give in, could I?  Truthfully,  even though I knew I wouldn't starve that day, I was pretty sure I was starving, anyway.  All I could think about was food.  All day long.  ALL DAY LONG.  It didn't help that my headache (they say that's normal with the detox, due to lack of the normal daily dose of caffeine and poisonous toxins) was totally miserable.  And I was tired of it hurting. The fix was so simple- just eat!  And many times, I nearly did.  Bedtime was difficult, at best, as I found myself lying in bed while thoughts of all sorts of my favorite foods danced through my mind.  All I wanted was a pepperoni pizza.  Sleep seemed impossible. I prayed for it to overcome me.


When I awoke the morning of Day Two,  I was so proud-and so amazed- I'd survived Day One.  I had read posts on Facebook from others who were on Day Four or Day Five or even Day Thirty Five, and I was absolutely amazed-  and very envious.  I had only survived one day and I couldn't begin to imagine surviving thirty or forty of them!  One online buddy had even juicefeasted for 120!!   Everyone kept saying to hang in there and that it would get easier.  But I thought they were lying; well, okay, exxagerating, then.  It couldn't possibly be easier. On the evening of Day Two, I told my husband goodnight and went to bed early to try to put myself out of my own misery.  Bedtime was surreal, as again, every type of food I loved just danced in my mind, bright, vivid pictures, one after the other.  That night, it felt as though I was in a fog; in this deep, dark  place I couldn't get out of.    I felt sort of like someone had slipped me a drug and I couldn't shake it.   Again, I prayed for sleep, and struggled to get there.


And then, it was Day Three.  Day Three was nearly my nemesis!  I felt hungry all day. And although my "detox headache" was all but gone, I so missed my creamy, sweet cup of coffee.  I considered again, more than once, giving in.  But I didn't.  I hung in there and even as I prepared my husband's supper, I didn't cave.  I didn't taste.  I didn't nibble.  I didn't even, as I said before, lick my fingers.  An online juicing friend had posted a motivational poster that said something like, "If you're tired of starting over, stop quitting!"  That one line, and the support of my online "Juicy Peeps,"  gave me the strength to continue. And bedtime?  Bedtime was beginning to be my friend, because it marked not only the end of another day, but the pleasure to say, upon awakening, "I'm on the NEXT day!"


Day Four felt a little better, as my headache had disappeared.  Thank goodness!  The day wasn't bad, but that evening, my husband and I were to participate in Relay for Life to raise funds to help with cancer research.  There would be food booths set up all around the track on which we had to walk.  Hotdogs, hamburgers, BBQ chicken, pintos and cornbread, just to mention a few of the temptations. The smell of grilled food filled the air and I got my first, aromatic whiff just as we arrived.  As it turned out, I filled up all day on my water and juice, took some with me to the event and the challenge was minimized because once I arrived there, I realized I was feeling so much better, I had a will of steel and a cooler full of juice and water to get through that night.  I even made quite a few laps on the track and- it felt good.  While others around me feasted on some of my favorite foods, I enjoyed my cold, frosty juice and kept telling myself I was better off because of it.  And I was.


Day Five was pretty awesome.  No more detox symptoms other than my not-so-pleasant-tasting mouth.  That, of course, has been pretty uncomfortable but I've tolerated it because I know it's temporary.  They say it's symptomatic of the detox process.  I didn't do too much; basically lazed most of the day.  I allowed myself time to watch a little TV, which I rarely do during the day.  I just relaxed, wrote my blog, talked a lot with juicefeast friends online.  The day was actually pretty nice, as I realized I felt pretty well and there didn't seem to be any obvious signs of hunger, although I still would kill for a cheeseburger.  I was beginning to realize how often I eat, normally, when I'm not really hungry; I eat because of the pleasure associated with the yummy taste of food.  Day Five, I didn't have to put myself to bed early, though, because with my daily juices and water, I felt completely satiated and content.  Bedtime was peaceful and content and I think I slept better that night than I had in a while, other than the necessity to visit the bathroom several times, which I'm getting used to.


Day Six!!  Today! It sounds so good, I have to say it again:  DAY SIX!!!!  Wow..if anyone had told me a week ago that I'd be celebrating having juicefeasted for six (count 'em!!!) SIX days, I never would've believed them.  Upon awakening, normally, I would anticipate getting to the kitchen and having my coffee.  This morning, I realized, I don't crave my morning coffee and ....I'm fine!  I am feeling pretty darned good with absolutely no detox symptoms, other than the still-unpleasant taste in my mouth.  This is good because from what I've researched on the detox process, my body is still detoxing.  Juicing is easier today.  In fact, I'm enjoying my juices more and more. When I finish a juice, I actually look forward to the next one.  Figuring out what "taste" I would like- that is, what blend of fruits and veggies I'm in the mood for- is somewhat pleasurable.  Can it be that I might learn to love this?


So.....tomorrow is my Day Seven.  It'll be easy.  So easy, in fact, I'm just anxious to get to it- and through it.  I'm reminded of years ago when I quit smoking cigarettes.  Many times through the years, I have looked back on quitting as the easiest-hardest-easiest-hardest thing I've  ever done.  Well, now I feel that way about this juicefeast.  I don't want to give up today, and I won't give up tomorrow because getting through tomorrow means I juicefeasted for an entire week!  And then....


Tuesday morning-  the day I get on the scale to see how much weight I've lost.  This juicefeast helps detox the body and allows it to cleanse and heal itself and  that, of course is the biggest objective.  But losing weight is a HUGE added bonus.  We can't be healed and well if we're overweight.  But, I have refrained from weighing myself the past six days.  Avoiding the scales was difficult- a big challenge to my self-control, but this challenge paled in comparison to the challenge of not eating for days.  If I could avoid food, I could certainly avoid the urge to weigh.  But I wanted to save the surprise for my one-week mark, so I haven't weighed.  I can tell, however, I've lost weight.  Not a huge amount, of course, after just 5-1/2 days, but I can tell.  My jeans aren't quite as tight in the waistline and well, it's hard to explain, but I just feel "lighter."  And my hope is that the number on the scale will help motivate me to continue- on this, My Journey to Genesis.


This- is where I am.

Is It Love? Or Is It Hate?


I just have a quick question for you:


You do know there's a fine line between love and hate, don't you?


I mean, when you and I first met, I thought you were quite handsome.  You were somewhat quiet and very charismatic.  You were clean, well-kept and Lordie, Lordie...you sure had all the right moves. You didn't need to spend countless hours watching television.  You didn't care about who's on first.  You gave me your undivided attention.  In fact, you spent nearly all your time anticipating my visits...you just waited for me to come to you.  And I did.  I did come to you.  But this girl's no dummy.  I realized quickly that you were a force to be reckoned with. I knew I had to keep my guard up or you would suck me right in with your charms.  So I did my best to not think about you every waking minute.  I busied my mind and my body and every time thoughts of you crept in, I tried my best to brush them away.


Oh, and then there's the green thing.  There was a time in my life, when, admittedly, I was young, and I used to think green should be reserved only for grass and money.  As I matured, however, I realized green is good for other things as well.  I mean, kale, broccoli, cabbage- (and I have to admit, I have a secret crush on Kermit.)  But green veggies are only good if cooked up in fatback and slathered with butter and salt, right?  No.  No...this wasn't good enough for you. You insisted I feed you raw, green things.  Well, just for the record, I'm not stupid.  It didn't take this girl long to figure it out.  I could see the writing on the wall:  this, no doubt, was going to be a high-maintenance relationship.


So yesterday, after just spending a few days with you, I spent a bit of quiet time trying to sort things out.  I mean, do I really need the "extra baggage" of a high-maintenance relationship in my life right now?  Do I need any kind of extra baggage at all?  And, through the many hours of contemplation, slowly it dawned on me.  Yes.  Yes, I do.  I need you.


But.... just a little side note: don't think you can get away with always having your way in this relationship.  Don't think you are my only love interest. Don't think that I can't go eat something that's not green if I want to. I can, ya know!  I can go eat a hotdog...I can go eat anything...any time I want!  But-- because of you, I don't want.  I mean, I want.  But then I think of you, and I don't want. Damn you, Juicer.  I love you.  I hate you. 

I Pooped!


Woo hooooo!  I pooped!  


I pooped a lot. 


Sorry.  I know that's definitely too much information.  But you have to understand:  I've been reading and hearing about how, during the juice fast, people "have to go" a lot.  And going a lot is good news when you're juice fasting.  Why?  Because the many benefits of juice fasting include cleaning out the poisons and toxins from the body so it can begin to heal.  One way this happens, of course, is by emptying the colon. The more you "have to go," especially in the beginning stages, the quicker your body begins to get back to pure and healthy.  Healing begins.


But I wasn't pooping in the beginning like the other members of my juicing buddies.  And I was getting a little concerned!   I've been on the juice fast for two full, long - long days now.  And I've been diligent.  I've stuck to it.  I've persevered.  I haven't even licked my fingers when I fixed my husband's meals.    Shouldn't I be pooping?  Is that really too much to expect?  I don't think so.


I seriously considered adding an extra request to my evening prayers as I went to bed last night.  But I decided God had too many other important things in the world to deal with besides my poop.  So I refrained.  Besides, if He always knows what's in our hearts and minds, then surely He knows what's in our colon, right?  If he always "knows our needs," then surely He is aware that I'm having a poop problem.  


As I drifted off to sleep, it hit me.  No, I mean, "it" hit me!  You know.....the "urge."  What?  What was that? Could it be?  I opened my eyes and waited a minute.  


"Yep..this is it!  This is definitely it!   I gotta poop!!" 


I leaped out of bed and hurriedly grabbed my robe and ran for the guest bathroom.  I had already decided:  if I had to poop during the nighttime, I would use the guest bath, as I was pretty sure this wasn't going to be pretty and there's no way I wanted my husband to awaken to the sounds of the results of two full days of "Mean Green."  


Along the way and with a smile on my face, I grabbed my favorite magazine.  I usually get them in the mail and then struggle to find time to read them, but tonight was different.  I had nothing else to do, nothing on my plate, (no pun intended) just the toilet, my favorite magazine, the Poop Gods and me.   And time was definitely on my side.


In lieu of giving you all the nasty, "Mean Green" details, suffice to say, I'm glad I went to the spare bathroom. 


So this morning, I am feeling better- physically and mentally.  Emptying my colon makes me have a better attitude about this whole, "cleansing" thing.  Today will be busy, as I plan to keep my mind occupied with my things-to-do list.  The busier my mind stays, the less likely I am to give in to the temptation to eat anything with a face.


I'll keep you posted on my further juice-fast progress, but for now, I gotta go.


No, no...I mean, "I GOTTA GO!!!!"  Woo hooooo!!!!!!

1,440 MINUTES


That's right.  1,440 minutes!  That's how long my body has been healing.  Not just a day.  Not just 24 hours.  But 1,440 minutes!!!!
Now I'm not just sitting around counting the minutes.  I'm only trying to make a point:  1,440 minutes is a lonnng time..and I did it!!!  Let me put it another way:


How long does it take you to pee?  Hey, don't laugh.  Stick with me here while I make my point.  A minute?  Two?  Ok...let's say two.  So to illustrate just how long 1,440 minutes is, just imagine this:  To kill 1,440 minutes, you would've had to pee 720 times!!!  Now that's a long time!!!  Get the picture??


So my point is....I'm not proud because I made it through my first day of juice fasting.  I'm DAMNED proud because I made it through 1,440 minutes of juice fasting!   


I'm sure by now you're all wishing I'd get to the point and answer the pertinent questions:


"How was it?"
"How do you feel?"
"Was it hard?"
"Are you hungry?"
"Did you cheat?"


So, here goes.


Q:  "How was it?"
A:  It wasn't bad.  It wasn't great--- I won't lie, but it wasn't bad.  When I was drinking the juices, I could just imagine the nutrients I was feeding my body.  And I think I even heard my body whisper, "Thank you," once or twice.  (OK...so I have a lively imagination.  But I'm sure if my body could whisper, "thank you," it would've.)


Q:  "How do you feel?"
I feel pretty darned good!  Not tired.  Not sluggish, as I normally am, rolling out of bed in the morning.  Bright-eyed this morning and raring to go.  Truth is, I think I'm full of energy!  And definitely feeling encouraged because I made it through the first 24- er, 1,440 minutes!!!!!!


Q:  "Was it hard?"
A:  It really wasn't as hard as I anticipated.  Deepak Chopra was right:


"Our thinking and our behavior are always in anticipation of a response. It is therefore fear-based."

Q:  "Are you hungry?"
A:  No.  I am not hungry.  I would, however, wolf down two eggs and bacon ("crispy, please")  if I wasn't on this journey.  And yesterday, during the first 1,440 minutes, I had similar thoughts, although, admittedly, I wasn't hungry then, either.  That made me realize how much I eat just to please my palette and not my tummy.  And how I'm definitely one of those who lives to eat, not eats to live. But the truth is, the juice and water kept me quite full and satiated, all day long.


Q:  "Did you cheat?"  
A:  Positively, absolutely, unequivocally.... no!


As someone once said, "The Urge to Cheat Insults My Integrity."

Yay, Me!