I announced my plans to go on a juice cleanse to my friends while we were gathered at a Ham Party. A Ham Party is perhaps not the best place to talk about abstaining from eating. The people at Cleanse Company That Shall Remain Nameless had asked me to try out their product, I explained, and in my habit of yes-saying, I'd signed up for a three-day cleanse. Maybe it'd make me feel "energized." Maybe it'd prove to me that I am more than my toxins. My friends were confused and pretty wary, and we kept eating our ham and changed the subject.
Before my cleanse arrived, I researched the complaints and endorsements. I received friendly emails that informed and encouraged me. My cleanse would arrive by 10 a.m., the cheery cleanse emailer promised, and I would receive:
* 2 freshly hydraulic cold pressed organic juices beaming with life energy * 1 sprouted almond milk with raw organic superfood plant protein blend* 1 raw soup* 1 superfood bite* 1 superfood elixir (which you can drink as is or dilute with water if you like tosip it all day long)* dressing and nut & seed toppings with recipes to create your own delicioussalad (ed: eye roll)
For a product that is supposed to "cleanse" a participant, the packaging and delivery sure leave a sludge in the environment's colon. My large package was overnighted from the west coast, and each juice was bottled in thick plastic and kept cold in three cooler bags. This was concerning, to say the least.
I was prepared to Snapchat my way through this journey. I was prepared to sip a juice while my friends and I exchanged presents over (personally prohibited) cookies and chips and guac. I was prepared to whine about not being able to eat the cookies, all the while glowing radiantly.
I was not prepared, however, for how foot-flavored the juice would be. I started the cleanse at 1 p.m. and finished the cleanse 7 seconds later, after I tasted it.
How to write a review of a cleanse I didn't commit to? How to write about a hypothetical three-day choice to endure the taste of worms? Should I analyze why I wasn't mentally tough enough to endure 72 hours of kale water? Should I address the science and crap nutrition of the cleanse craze, and quote doctors about how the claims of euphoria are actually due to messed-up blood sugar levels?
I'm not going to do any of that. No one wants to read about how horrible the cleanse tasted, or how grouchy and anxious I was while waiting for my cleanse to arrive, or about my theory that the emails are a form of cyber bullying. "Congratulations on your commitment to your health!" Did they know I quit? Do I detect a mocking/manipulative tone??!! Or is that my carb intake making me paranoid?
A lack of food, a lack of fun, of participation, of enjoyment: that's nothing any one wants to hear about. Consider me un-cleansed for good.