Enjoy this read:
My Summer Adventures in Juice Cleansing
Some people call themselves experts or even gurus (yes, I have heard someone introduce themselves as a "guru") on nutrition, raw foods, weight loss, or enlightenment, or all of those. They write and/or speak publicly about conclusions they've arrived at through years of experience and diligent research. I, on the other hand, don't claim to have conclusively figured it all out, nor do I have time for hours of detailed investigation. I just try things for myself and write about it while I'm sorting it all out--like a guinea pig with a notepad, jotting down reports on the experiment phases, tossing out random hypotheses.
The latest trial? I finally did a juice fast. Yes... a juice fast, juice feast, juice fiesta, call it whatever you want. The point is, just juice. I've spent more than five years living on mostly raw foods and immersed in the world of raw foods, and I'd never done a juice fast. What kind of raw foodist am I? I have always felt like I should do a juice fast, especially reading about everyone else's adventures with the 90-day juice "feast". But doing something just because you feel like you should feels all wrong and not very motivating. The point was that I just didn't want to do it. That is, until recently.
Late one Sunday night I was sitting on my couch reading a recent issue of Get Fresh and trying to think of what to write for my next installment. I came across an article titled "Detox in Devon." With photos of lovely looking stone cottages in the sunny and green English countryside, the piece described a week-long cleansing juice fast getaway. It included mention of the retreat's heated indoor pool, pine sauna, and on-staff masseurs. It also reported that guests experienced an average weight loss of ten pounds along with the clearing of emotional blockages, and that they "tend to sleep more than they've ever slept in their lives."
As soon as I read this, I started to cry. I had some pounds to lose, blockages to clear up, and most of all, a serious rest and relaxation deficiency to repair! I wanted to go there, now. I immediately went to the website and sent them an email. Then I looked up flights to England. Ouch. The expense of flying overseas, plus the fact that their next availability was not for a couple of months, made me designate this as Plan B, and I turned to figuring out a Plan A.
After only a few minutes of searching online, I found a place that sounded comparable. It was called Gentle Earth Retreats and was in Ithaca, New York, only a four hour drive from Manhattan. There was a seven day program starting in just over a week. Perfect! According to the photos online, it looked like a sweet and comfortable place and was run by a pretty woman named Katherine. It was 2 o'clock in the morning, but I wanted to call the number listed and wake her up to check on availability. I wanted a spot now. What if someone else called before me? I settled for email, writing a note laced with enough personal details meant to elicit some degree of sympathy in case there was any discretion on her part in securing me a room.
When I woke up a few hours later, I had an email reply from Katherine telling me that she had just one private room left and that I could have it. Hooray! Everything is right with the Universe. Thank you. I was thrilled, and immediately started making a list of all the things I was going to bring (pajamas, slippers, etc.).
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