Spring Cleaning
It's been a rough 2009 so far, at least for my health. Between the cold that wouldn't leave for nearly two months, some pretty severe sleep deprivation, and more stress than usual, I've turned to comfort foods and comfort wine a bit more than I probably should. Author-Sarah would hardly care about a few extra pounds. I am, after all, in my 30s and married. Isn't that when we're all allowed to get fat?
But on-camera Sarah has to care. About a week ago, I decided to go back to what's always helped me slim down and feel happier before: The South Beach Diet and a few hours a week sweating on the elliptical listening to loud rock music. But no sooner did I Twitter something about these plans, then a trove of friends all told me I should try a juice cleanse instead.
I had one initial objection: That just sounds way too California. I already do Pilates three times a week and eat more tofu than I do red meat. I have to keep true to some of my Memphis roots, or they may not let me back in for BBQ-fest.
As I did more research on BluePrint Cleanse-- the company that everyone from Julia Allison to Michael Arrington have gone to for cleansing needs-- there were a few other red flags.
For one thing, no coffee. Whoa. Really? How do you expect me to work an 18-hour day without coffee? And what am I supposed to do when I, um, go write at a coffee shop? With apologies to Kevin Rose, drinking tea in a coffee shop is also in that way-too-California bucket.
Second: Colonics. You're supposed to get them before, during and after the cleanse. Um, no. Not happening. I'm a curmudgeonly writer! We don't "do" colonics! In fact, my blogging software doesn't even recognize the concept-- the spell check keeps trying to change the word to "colonies."
Third: It's $85 a day for people outside of New York! We're in a depression if you hadn't noticed. I had to take another job just to justify buying a Kindle.
Slowly, each of those objections got settled. One: The recommended cleanse is only three days long. Surely, I can handle no coffee for three days, if I can handle no sugar for 14 days on the South Beach Diet. If nothing else, I can put green tea is an opaque mug with a lid so no one sees it.
Two: The BluePrint folks said colonics were optional. We opted for "Hells no!"
Three: They comped my first cleanse.
Four: Mr. Lacy agreed to do it with me. We start tomorrow.
I still did the South Beach Diet, Phase 1 for a week and a half, only cheating to drink some wine to toast a few very special events last week, but impressively ignoring the five boxes of Girl Scout Cookies in the kitchen and every stitch of bread or pasta that was put in front of me. And I haven't weighed myself, but my clothes are fitting way looser already. I've also spent the last few days weaning myself off of coffee (oh the horror!), meat, and anything processed, per the pre-cleanse instructions. (Dairy has been harder because I tend to drink gallons of fat free milk when I can't have wine or beer. Weird, I know.) I sent Mr. Lacy to work today with strict instructions not to drink any Cokes and to have a veggie burger with no cheese for lunch. I think we're as ready for this weird, hippy cleanse as we'll ever be.
As skeptical as I was, I've got pretty high expectations for the results after all this raving about how the cleanse would change my life. If I emerge healthier, with more energy and a flat tummy, I may indeed pony up $250 a month for it in the future. (Maybe. No colonics.)
