I slipped. We slipped.
At approximately 7 p.m. on Saturday evening, while watching "Top Chef," and nearly six complete days into our juice fast, my partner and I fed into one another's weakening willpower. With tears in our eyes, but saliva forming in the corners of our mouths, we agreed to have a salad.
Just a salad.
It was a salad of romaine lettuce, cukes, tomatoes, onion, celery and avocado lightly dressed with a vinaigrette, but the sheer enjoyment of crunching down on solid food made it the best salad we'd both ever tasted. As delicious as some of these juices can be, when they become your breakfast, lunch and dinner, it can have an impact on your mental state that can border on slight delirium if you let it.
I feel like a failure, because I did not make it through a true 10-day fast. But I'm also not giving up, and right back to the juice.
We started with a fruity combo this morning, and will head out on a hike soon with the dogs. The plan is to see this through the ten days, noting "that time with the salad" as a guilty blip of our history.
I am now down 12 pounds from the start, and at best I have been down 15. That, too, will not discourage me. I have been defying all advice and step on the scale far too often, and I am amazed at the boomeranging that is going on.
This is, however, not a "diet," per se. We view it as a detoxification of the body and a prep for a healthier life to come. The weight loss is a welcomed consequence, and a strong motivator.