The challenge was extended - do you want to wear your skinny jeans again? Hell yeah I want to wear my skinny ass jeans! Or how about just anything without an elastic waistband? Yes, please! So, I decided to forego my passion for snacking on whatever the hell I want, whenever the hell I want it and my lust for alcohol-induced fuzziness to get me through the dinnertime chaos a mi casa and plunged head-first into a 28-day vegan detox cleanse.
I placed my order for my Arbonne kit and purged my kitchen of all temptation and stocked it to the hilt with jars of raw, unsalted almond butter, green apples and rice cakes. I ensured that my Ninja blender was in fine working order. (Prior use exclusively for margaritas). I bought cruciferous vegetables and brown rice and in the days leading up to the cleanse scarfed down my beloved cheese stash like a boss!
I was good to go.
That first Monday rolled around and I lapped up my vanilla protein shake at breaky, my chocolate shake for lunch with two astoundingly healthy, dairy-free, gluten-free, caffeine-free, sugar-free, taste-free snacks and a delicious dinner of beans and fake cheese. My initial thoughts were like Mondays aren’t a big enough pain in the ass these know-it-all guru nutritionists need to add insult to injury and kick off Hell Month on a Monday? Anyway - suffice to say - it was a long day.
After a few more days and some internet searching for recipes and actually reading all of the materials that accompanied my meal replacement shakes, fiber boost powder and detox herbal tea, I discovered some dishes that were not just tolerable but tasty.
The second week came and went with less stomach gurgling, unpleasant gas and the waistline of my non-sweatpants becoming less of a muffin-top vice machine and more of just an unpleasant binding sensation. Huh.
Third week introduced a 7-day ‘cleanse’ drink that I made in the morning and sipped four ounces of every hour for eight hours. It wasn’t too bad. It gave me something to do… And, I was well-rested because I’d been sleeping better - the whole night through on more than one occasion which is almost unheard of in my insomniac existence. And then, if you can believe it - when I woke up I felt… clear-headed! Less foggy. More Present. Living in the now. Living in the hourly moment of when I would wander to the refrigerator to drink some of that weak apple-tea-tasting brown concoction.
By week four I had almost X-ray vision I was so coherent and sober. My clothes fit me better. I was rested. I felt at peace. I was smiling. I got on the scale and hadn’t budged all that much - especially not compared to the whopping 20 pounds my husband lost as he bounded down the yellow brick road of detox cleansing his insides out along with me. Twenty pounds! Bravo.
And, I’m still not in my skinny jeans - but I don’t care. I’m in my I’m-in-my-forties jeans and that’s okay. Because after shaking up my routine and paying attention to what I was putting in my body and not getting fuzzy or hazy at the end of the day I realize how much more important it is to like what’s inside the jeans than what size they are. That's the trick!
PS - Not me in the jeans. Surprise! These are a little more accurate. :)