Juice me! But not in the steroid kind of way…

Being a real life juicer for 4 days has its highs and lows, PSYCHE, it only has lows. I’m sure if we went longer it would gradually get easier, but this was most definitely four days of stomach growls and shaky legs.

First I’d like to thank the bi-products of juicing like this one for keeping us going!pineapple headOn the first day there was pretty much no reason to go on living. I’m sure the devil himself invented juice cleanses, and if that’s true, salvation came in the form of adult gummy vitamins. We savored every bite and chew. They were our source of joy. We learned the social media rumor is true—every one loves to post what they’re eating. But that was nothing compared to our 3-hour torture chamber on Monday night as we headed up a fundraiser that had us sitting outside of Five Guys Burgers.

Oh what? You heard it’s teacher appreciation week? What idiot detoxes when your workplace has a different food event set up each day? Monday: candy, Tuesday: cookie bar, Wednesday-crawfish boil, Thursday-ice-cream truck…and on Friday, the day I could partake, I was out of town for the hot breakfast.

By the following day I was convinced my ribs were showing through my skin. I went home that afternoon hoping I had lost 5 pounds. I figured since I’m not doing this for weight loss in any way, if I had lost too much weight I would have to eat something. You know, for my own health. I was devastated to learn I was only down 1 pound, not enough for my stubborn self to justify solid food.ice cream truckThe final days had us dreaming about eating dinner the next night. I imagined us in a food-eating competition dunking cheeseburgers into water to increase our food intake per second.

Juicing took a lot of stress off of what to make for dinner, but surprisingly required more preparation and just as many dishes. While making our ‘meals’ we talked about weird things like if our septic tank backs up and poop comes out of our sinks, we are moving immediately. And we learned new things about each other such as when Walker informed me he wanted to see what a carrot tasted like. Yes, he tried his first raw carrot at 28 years of age.  Had I known, this would have been remedied 4 years ago. This was right before I caught him squeezing lemon juice into his mouth like a crack addict.

I hate to admit it, but I think it did get easier as time passed. When I felt full after my juice lunch Wednesday, part of me was relieved but part of me wanted to stay hangry.

Point of story—we are big babies, but babies with teeth who like to chew. I’m proud of us for sticking to what we said we would do but were overjoyed to dine with friends on Thursday night.

OH, and that first taste of raw carrot? He spit it out.

We took our recipes from here and here and liked/loved most of them!


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