Monday, January 23, 2012

A Lean, Clean Detoxing Machine (Day 1)

I was walking into my office building with kale salad in one hand, kombucha in the other, and I knew my life had taken a strange, strange turn. For you see before you (in words) a man who is doing something he often said he never would--I'm amidst a detox.

The reasons I've avoided one are as wide-ranging as the types of pork I enjoy:
1) It seems, if you follow food news, the one greatest rule is "moderation," so I try to do that.
2) It seems that if you avoid processed foods to begin with--can't remember my last fast food meal--you end up less processed yourself.
3) Despite the appearances, "diarrhea" does not rhyme with "yea!"
4) Pasta.
5) Cheese.
6) Days without alcohol. Which of course means I must explain, as you contemporary Carrie Nations no doubt assume I'm merely going to romanticize my desire to tipple. But if it's good enough for Europe, some wine or beer with dinner is good enough for me. Plus, too much of it is too tasty to ignore.
7) I'm from New Jersey, and don't want to move so close to the lightside of California, doing a detox. It's so cliche.
8) My wife wants me to do it, so like any not-quite-comprehending male, I dig in my heels. (Go ahead, make your catty little whip-snap noises now.)
9) Not everyone thinks a detox diet is such a good thing. Often those people have MD after their names. Oddly, the ones with MD after their names who are pro detox diets often have one named after them that they want to sell you.

Ultimately, though, I'm looking at this like going to a church my wife likes--I'm an unbeliever, but a little bit of others' faith might do me some good. Plus I just want to see if I can. Willpower doesn't have a "me" in it, alas, especially on a evening of a rainy day when the idea of a finger or so of St. George Whiskey sounds like an appealing way to warm up and wind down. This is a fight with my own bad self.

Luckily it's not some crazy Master Cleanse thing (I'd look funny even with a slimmed down version of Beyonce's body) and there's no dreadful powders involved (we only have one bathroom, so colonics are out of the question). We're generally following the Candida Diet rules, which, of course, leaves me singing Tony Orlando, and so I hate the whole diet even more. But they're relatively forgiving--even olive oil is ok--and the Brussels sprouts we roasted tonight we're yummy (even sans a vinegar tang, let alone some good pork fat).

I figure keeping a journal of sorts here in the blog would be a good way to discuss what this is like, why it's like, what there is to like, if anything.

Plus I've already got an out. This detox will be so short it's really just like a practice for a real one someday, as I won tickets to see Lucinda Williams in LA Friday, plus a gift certificate to Border Grill, and we're not passing up on very very good fortune. Let alone Mexican food and good tequila.

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