Distraction contributor Luisa Andonie shares with us what she learned from juice cleansing.
With celebrities like actresses Olivia Wilde and Zooey Deschanel and even J.Crew’s President Jenna Lyons reaping the glamorous benefits of our green friends acquaintances – vegetables in the form of liquid assets – juicing is responsible for the resurgence of fruits and legumes in our refrigerators.
But to us mere mortals who are content with shiny (by which I mean oily) skin, rather than the glowing epidermis of Hollywood’s faces, juice fasting sounds like too much pain for not enough gain. It makes you think of the pointless masochism a desperate high-schooler would endure the last week of school, just to fit into her prom dress. And obviously, if done haphazardly as I have done twice, it feels like a self-induced PMS[1]. But I have to admit – if done the right way, juice fasting almost feels like giving your body a vacation, in which all you want to do is wear your bikini and admire your suddenly flat stomach.
What is this metaphorical and elusive “right way” you ask? Well, I call it the ABCD’s of juice fasting[2].
All out. There’s no other way to go.
I can see you eating that blueberry before you put it into the juicer. Put it down. It might look innocent, but even one miserable, tiny blueberry can make you miss the delicious feeling of biting your teeth and oh! – that glorious texture.
Big juices are a must.
When prepping your vegetables and washing the machine is such a chore, it’s better to make each juice count. 25 ml is not a lot when you consider that it’s a meal. As long as you have 5 big juices a day, you have no reason to be hungry[3].
Creativity is like a fruit; juice it.
Assuming you’re doing this fast when you’re not in school (doing it during classes is a recipe for disaster), you have a bit of free time. Sure, you could watch movies, but you’d be surprised how much people eat in movies – and there’s nothing as aggravating as seeing people devour French fries as you sit at home, sipping on your carrot juice. Instead, pick up a hobby. Do something fun that distracts your mind and your stomach. Yes, even going shopping counts. Just remember, if you buy those pants, they might not fit so nicely once you start eating normally again.
Dance.
In your room, in your underwear, at a sweaty nightclub, or at a workout dance class. I don’t care. Just don’t sink into the quicksand that is your couch. Take this as an opportunity to outscore your sister at Wii Just Dance. But if you can’t even bust a move after a few tequila shots, don’t bother hitting the dance floor after a few wheatgrass shots. Not to worry, there are other ways to keep your endorphins up and keep you distracted. Try walking on the beach, going for a light jog or taking the bike instead of the car for that run to CVS down the street.
Even if you don’t score that hot bod, juice fasting does one thing invariably well. It resets your palate, making you realize all the greasy, processed food we are all too happy to welcome. And man, does it make you appreciate real food.
[1]For those enviable members of the male species who don’t know, PMS feels like you just drank a gallon of milk and all you want to do is lay down on your couch and give that milk some chocolate.
[2]Juice fasting is no joke, if you want easy ABC’s go ask your mom to find you her copy of the South Beach Diet book. It should be gathering dust in your kitchen shelf somewhere, sandwiched between the Atkins guide and Ina Garten’s recipe book.
[3] Note use of the word “hungry”. Not being hungry ≠ not wanting to eat.
words_luisa andonie. photo_nicole vila