The Juice-Fast: Part 1

18 Jan

A co-worker of mine told me about a juice-fast he was on. It lasted ten days, and he lost sixteen pounds (that’s TWO Chihuahuas, folks).  Needless to say, I went out and bought a juicer.

Wait a tick… that makes it sound far too simple.  There are three different kinds of juicers, for those who don’t know: masticating, centrifugal, and triturating.  I did my research.  I actually over-researched it to the point that I am now ashamed of how much I know about juicers and the nutritional value of juice.  Anyway.  I found the perfect juicer for my needs (I need it for ten days, to juice fruits and vegetables, and to not judge me as I break down an gorge on beef jerky and pickles).

And this still sounds far too simple.  Let’s say this. Say I get two days off (which I do, and I very much enjoy) and say in those two days, I like to devote one entire day to ‘date day’ (that’s when I go on fun dates).   So I have one day to run errands, cry into my pillow, eat myself sick on ice cream, and call home for updates on the Mississippi weather.

I’ll break it down for you. I researched online, found the most basic juicer for my needs at the best price, and went to try to buy it.

Sunday: Go to Target; decide I cannot commit to the juice-fast, run in terror from the store.

Half hour later: Retract my decision.  Sixteen pounds by eating (drinking) healthy? Let’s do this.  I go to Bed, Bath, and Beyond. Juicers are about twice as much.  No, thank you.  I go back to Target.  Juicers are now out-of-stock. FML.  I go eat pizza and wings.

Monday: I have resolve; let’s get a goddamn juicer.  I go to a different Target, buy the juicer, go shopping to alleviate the hurt, then go on my date.  I eat dolmathes, chicken and rice soup, a flounder stuffed with crab and shrimp, and go home very proud of myself.

Tuesday morning: try to start juice-fast.  I open the juicer, attempt to assemble it, and as I am making a list of fresh fruit to buy notice that all the parts aren’t in it.  No wonder it wouldn’t put together.  Call every Target in town to find one that has the same model so that I can switch it out.  Only one does, and it is 20 minutes from home.  Whatever.  Let’s do this.  After switching the juicer, I go to my favorite New Mexican restaurant and eat enchiladas.  We will start tomorrow.

Fuck this shit. I better look amazing after juicing.

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