Twenty four hours without chewing is no fun

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To detox or not to detox? That is the question of the month.

Yours truly finally succumbed to the ‘juice cleanse’ this week - a plan which promises to rid the body of all those nasty toxins left over from Christmas.

I’ve never been a fan of fad diets. As a, how shall we put it, rather big-boned child, one has spent her adult life keeping a close eye on calories. Well outside of birthdays, Christmas, Easter... weekends. But while I’m happy to read every food label in sight, and endeavour (often unsuccessfully) to clock up five a day, I’ve never made a concerted effort to partake in a weight-loss plan. No cabbage soup for me. Cayenne pepper and maple syrup shall never be mixed, no matter what Beyonce says. And 5:2? Well that’s an interesting football score rather than a way of life in my book.

But after one too many weeks of over indulgence, I decided to take drastic action. Juice. Lots of it.

If anyone had asked me this time last week if I was able to live on liquid for three days, I’d have shrugged them off... Well of course. Little Miss Willpower. Bring on the berries, greens and seeds. Whizz them together at will. I could go a month, never mind a few poxy days.

How wrong I was. Not eating? Not easy.

Day one started well. Punnets full of fruit thrown into the newly acquired Nutribullet and I was well on my way. Green juice was next, and while one wasn’t too enamoured with the idea of blitzing spinach, watercress, cucumber and avocado with a few oranges, I was willing to try. End of day one and I’d done it. Twenty four hours without chewing. An odd achievement, but an achievement nonetheless.

For those toying with the idea of doing a detox themselves, be warned... day two will get you. Day two is when the body turns around and says: ‘Enough of this nonsense, put something in me now please.’

‘Anything will do, as long as it’s in a solid form.’ ‘Seriously, just chew. Go on, dare you.’ The only way to banish the pizza-shaped devil sat on my shoulder was to go to bed. To sleep per chance to dream of sushi.

Day three and light could be seen at the end of the tunnel. Four more lots of pulverised pulses and that was it, done. Part of me wanted to say it hadn’t made a difference. Not worth going through again. The glowing skin and lost pounds were just a coincidence.

The other part however, has booked us in for the same time next year.