The Cleanse

The Monday before the long holiday weekend, O decides he’s going to do one of those lemon-maple syrup-cayenne pepper cleanses. He hasn’t been feeling up to par and has decided that a detox is in order. It takes me about 3 seconds before I graciously offer to lend support and join him in solidarity. I, too, will cleanse. See what a great fiance I am?

Not quite. In truth, I have been curious about cleansing for years. I’ve come close to considering it, but I wimped out each time. Recently, I read an article lauding a certain juice cleanse in NYC. I bookmarked the web site. O’s initiative was the push I needed to jump into this purportedly Über Healthy terrain.

The next day, I pored over the site’s information on cleansing, the benefits, the deliciousness of their product, etc. Yeah, yeah, yeah, that was all great and fine, but - what’s this? They deliver? To my door?? Sold. I signed up for three days of juice as well as - oh, why not - the Day-Before and Day-After recommended “transition” menus, comprised of a combination of juices and raw, vegan food to help me ease into and out of my food-less foray.

The night before I was to begin, I drank wine until midnight. I felt like Cinderella right before her carriage turned into a pumpkin. Eat! Drink! Be Merry!

Day One: Pre-Cleanse
7:00am - My alarm goes off. I await the delivery of my raw, vegan Pre-Cleanse Prep. Normally, this is when I make my coffee and toast and read the paper. Today I just read the paper and drink water. My doorbell rings. Game on.

9:05am - My stomach growls. It’s way too soon for this. It must be anticipatory hunger.

9:30am - Time for my first juice: Pineapple and Ginger. Yum! Must remember to sip slowly. This puppy’s got to last two hours.

5:20pm - My tongue feels funky. I suspect all that raw ginger and pineapple played a role.

9:30pm - I have wolfed down my surprisingly delicious raw, vegan collard-green “enchiladas” and am moving on to the raw, vegan chocolate-coconut pudding. At first spoonful, I surmise that vegans may have forgotten what chocolate-coconut pudding is supposed to taste like. Then I realize this probably IS what it’s supposed to taste like. It’s just that my sugar-addled taste buds don’t recognize that. I appreciate my pudding anew.

Day Two: Juice
7:30am - my 3 days’ worth of juices arrive. I’m relieved to see nary a pineapple juice in the lot. I don’t think my tongue could handle another one. I am a little peeved to see that two of my six daily juices are the same. I’m spending 72 hours not chewing. At least don’t give me repeats.

4:00pm - I have a workout session with my personal trainer. He is not happy to hear of my cleanse and warns me I won’t replenish the nutrients I am about to expend in the next hour. I rebut that the website approves moderate exercise. He gives me a look and tells me my workouts with him don’t fall in the “moderate” category. I think I just insulted him. He warns me I’ll be wiped out tomorrow.

5:00pm - I survived my very-not-moderate workout and chug down my coconut water. Only two more hours before “dinner.” Walking home from the gym, I see people eating everywhere I look. In cafes, on the street, in the park, in their cars. I feel like I have a new appreciation for how this city looks to hungry people. I note the irony of being privileged enough to opt for self-deprivation.

8:00pm - O and I are eager to fill the time that would normally be spent eating dinner and drinking wine. We grab our beach chairs and beeline for the Tompkins Square Park’s Films on the Green Festival. Watching Jacques Tati in “Mr. Hulot’s Holiday” distracts me from the beet juice I nurse for the duration of the film. We go to bed early. It seems easier to sleep than not eat.

Day Three: Juice. Again.

The morning gets off to an unexpectedly good start. I’m in a great mood. The sun is shining. I’m feeling clean and pure. I recall my trainer’s words of caution. I don’t feel wiped out at all! I must be in better shape than I thought.

2:00pm - I am so tired I can’t keep my eyes open. I take a two hour nap.

7:00pm - O and I practically run to the movie theatre to keep ourselves preoccupied. We talk about food all the way there. When our movie lets out, we decide to sneak into the next feature one theatre over. We have successfully filled another dinner-less night.

Day Four: Juice. Juice. More Juice.

11:00am - I hear O yell from the other room, “God, I want breakfast!”

The act of eating takes up a lot of time. Without it, our day stretches out before us like a wide horizon. I countdown how many hours before I get solid food. 26, is the answer. I spruce up my beet juice by pouring it over ice and spritzing it with lemon. It’s marginally more exciting that way.

Day Five: Post-Cleanse

2:00pm: I’m chewing! My raw, vegan “couscous” is real food! It’s also... not so great. But I’m chewing!

4:00pm: O and I take a walk on the Highline. We stop at the beer garden below the 30th Street entrance, just to “check it out.” We survey the menus of the taco trucks. We pore over the wine and beer choices on tap. I think we are reminding ourselves that good food and drink are within reach. It’s just that we are choosing otherwise. We take comfort in knowing that it’s there. We have crossed over into pathetic.

6:00pm: O has roasted vegetables for his dinner. He offers me a beet. I tell him in no uncertain terms that I am not eating another beet for the foreseeable future. He insists that this is worth tasting. I relent. I regret. Seriously, no more beets.

Day Six: Return to Food

7:00am: The coffee grinder won’t grind. I have no coffee. A week ago, this would have fallen into the Catastrophe category, but today, I calmly reach for my decaf green tea.

9:00am: I order scrambled eggs, a coffee (small) and a banana from my corner deli. The scrambled eggs are completely tasteless. The coffee is bitter. The banana saves the day.

My cleanse has made an elitist of my mouth.

What have I taken away from all this? Well, for starters, I’m shocked by how little I suffered from lack of caffeine. I’m surprised (and relieved) by how little I missed wine. I am more committed to eating less meat. But mostly, I confirmed what I already knew: how much I enjoy the flavors, textures and varieties of food. I like eating.

And without question, I am definitely more resolved to select quality over convenience. You can rest assured that from now on, I’ll take the long way to work so I can get my morning joe from the good coffee place. That is, if I decide to drink coffee that day. It seems I don’t really need it, after all.