The (Non)-Art of Juicing
A few weeks ago, my roommates asked me if I wanted to “juice” with them. I could tell by their excited expressions that they were on a mission. Juicing, a trendy philosophy that consists of drinking juice that is extracted from plant tissues such as fruit and vegetables, is a phenomenon on the rise in places like LA and San Francisco (apparently, a reoccurring phenomenon).
Without much hesitation, I signed on just as excitedly. After traveling so much in the last couple of months and not really taking care of my own body, I thought that I could use the “cleansing,” if you will.
I thought it would be a good idea.
Photo courtesy of Healthy Green Kitchen.
That first juicing day came and went. We started off in the morning by visiting the specialty juice store to pick up our many bottles of juices that should then last us the next 24 hours. The bottles of juice come in different “flavors” made up with all natural ingredients. They’re also categorized differently so you have your fair share of “greens,” “citruses,” and “roots.” After picking up our “food” for the day, we proceeded to do very little, mainly because we didn’t want to be tempted with real food. I also gave up my usual routine of going to yoga, because I knew I would have very little energy. So, we sat around, looking at each other, and well, frequently visiting the bathroom.
By 9 pm that night, all of us were famished. We debated giving up and just getting food. We laughed at each other for how “weak” we were and giggled at our indecisions. We were definitely delirious and I am sure you can imagine how being delirious doesn’t lend itself to making the best decisions.
So, we ended up at all-you-can-eat shabu shabu. Not yet shabu shabu, ALL-YOU-CAN-EAT SHABU SHABU. Needless to say, we ate everything and unbuttoned our jeans along the way. As soon as I got home, I pretty much crashed. I had never felt this tired from doing essentially nothing during the day. If I took a second to think, I would’ve realized that it was because I hadn’t eaten the whole day. However, as I wondered what was wrong with me, that was not a thought that had crossed my mind.
I woke up the next day feeling guilty over what I had engulfed the night before. Hmmm… familiar feeling, dare I say?
The following week, I tried juicing again. Apparently I didn’t learn anything the week before. This time, I did it during the week day and I really thought it would work. I would be distracted by my many meetings and emails that I wouldn’t really think about food. How wrong was I?
Again, by 7 pm that night, I was starving and ended up giving in to what I then saw as temptation and proceeded to swallow an entire lunch box of pasta that wasn’t even that good.
I don’t attempt to juice anymore. Doing so the last two times brought back too many memories of forcing my body to act in a way that it’s not used to. It rebelled, and we fought, terribly.
As I’ve always said, the journey to loving myself will be a long one. The journey to acceptance and finding the balance between health and comfort is going to be my life long homework. But if there is one thing that I can takeaway, it’s “everything in moderation.” A slice of pumpkin pie is really ok. If we oppress ourselves and our natural rhythm, our body will only backfire on us.
The last time I realized this, years ago, was when I ended up holding a plate of three brownies stacked on each other because my mind somehow convinced me that it would be ok to eat all that I wanted because I would never eat again. Isn’t that what binge eating is all about?
Lesson learned. Hopefully, lesson learned.