Owing to over a year of severe stress and about a month of culinary debauchery in Europe, I made the decision about a month ago to detox my system and start from scratch. I was sure that the amount of cheese, kebabs, wine, curry, and cheese I consumed probably did my system no favors and had probably laid a formidable foundation for blockage in some important valve/organ/artery, so I best wipe the slate clean. I do this, in some form or another, every year.
This year’s detox eliminated: caffeine, flour, sugar, dairy, eggs, grains/oats, peanuts, citrus, all sweeteners (corn syrup is in EVERYTHING), medicine, oils other than olive, and alcohol. If you are considering a detox, please realize that all of the following will likely occur. Some other things I have too much class to mention will happen as well. Count on it.
- You will wake up in the middle of the afternoon curled in a fetal position on the kitchen floor, rocking yourself to a little tune you’ve spontaneously came up with called, “There’s nothing I want more right now than peanut butter with cheese and tequila. Ooo wooo ooo.”
- By week two, I was following you may follow strangers with coffee, just to get a whiff…and for the off chance they set it down.
- You will be on a short fuse, so warn anyone that you would like to remain in your life post-detox that some irrationality will occur (like biting off fingers that wander near your bean sprouts doused in flaxseed oil, or changing the channel during Glee). This is, however, a prime opportunity to rid yourself of pesky people who you haven’t had the heart to break-up with. Unexplained screeching and crying scares even the most well-meaning bloke far, far away.
After surviving 5 weeks of this, though, my tummy does not block my view of my feet (happy dance), I wake up without an alarm by 7am (ish) feeling refreshed and in no need of caffeine, and have gotten back into a 5 day/week exercise routine. I’ve actually continued once a week with hot yoga, and, while I stand by my original assessment, I’m pretty delighted with my newfound bendiness. I’m much less likely to get stuck in a weird pretzel-y position and need to call for help when painting my toes.
I was reading an interview with Anna Paquin in SELF recently (I feel more fit if I am subscribed to a fitness mag. Try it) who, if you didn’t know, is of Sookie Stackhouse fame on HBO’s True Blood, or sweet/scary Rogue from X-Men.
Paquin was honest about how much work she does to maintain her physique and mentioned the Bar Method as her go-to routine. I had purchased the Bar Method a couple of years ago, got freaked out by the instructor’s frozen smile and unblinking stare, and tucked it to the back of my dvd drawer with other things I knew were good, but didn’t watch more than once, like season 2 of Mad Men. Well, if Sookie managed dimple-free thighs using a dvd I already owned, then I figured I was just going to have to push past my fear of that frightening and overly injected face (just like I do clowns when I go to the circus because I dearly love cotton candy and trapeze artists) and wrestled myself into some leggings.
The horrific-to-look-at instructor is pretty great, if you just listen and don’t look at her. She lets you know what the agony you’re experiencing will yield.
For example, when I was on tippy toe and dipping deeply into a wobbly plié whilst groaning and cursing, Crazy Eyes says, “Be sure to hang in there! We are almost done carving out that bottom and making those thighs appear thinner when viewed from the front. Let those legs sizzle!”
Well. Hot damn. I am all for definition and creating optical illusions in my favor (Um, hello. Don’t judge. No self-respecting lady leaves the house without, at a minimum, mascara on), so I did hang in there. As did my thighs. And, oh, how they sizzled. Never mind that I have to slide on my stomach to go down stairs because my muscles are now jelly and cannot support me. I look narrower! (From the front).