The Road to Raw

**Be sure to scroll down to see the pictures**

As I write this I am nine days in to my forty-day juice feast and I feel unbelievably happy! Based on my extensive research into raw feasting (i.e. watching hours of Youtube videos) this is normal but it takes seven-to-ten days to get there. That's why I will tell you now that three-day fasts or cleanses just wouldn't work for me. Things were just reaching the bottom on day three. But I'm getting ahead of myself.  Let me start from the beginning.

I am a recovering cheese addict. Everybody has his or her thing, mine is cheese. I do not say this lightly. I imagine that there are recovering alcoholics who might take issue with my declaration. Believe me, I get their skepticism and I can only ask for an open mind. I am so addicted that I dream about it from time to time. I can eat an eight ounce block of sharp cheddar cheese in one sitting. I like it best cut up into cubes and dipped it in honey. I stalk the cheese aisle at Whole Foods like a crack addict. Oh, fromage!

Once I dreamt that I had to eat my way out of a room of Cheetos(tm). It was the best dream ever. I still remember what the dream looked like. On the morning before I started my fast, I awoke at four am with the taste of pizza on my tongue and my first thought was, "cheese".

Even in California where my mother and father were whipping out these extraordinary vegan feasts I snuck over to the local Bakers a few times for a quesadilla and small french fries (another addiction - though not as acute). I made sure to drive with the windows down to hide the odors from my mother.

When I returned to New York I hit my bottom. Craving cheese, I first considered getting a whole pizza from Little Caesars(tm).  Then I thought, if I'm going to do this, let me at least do it the healthiest way possible. I went to the grocery store and bought two whole wheat hoagie buns (sub sandwiches or grinders to you Californians), a packet of alfalfa sprouts, a tomato, onion, and a half pound of cheese. That's right. A half pound. Because the store won't sell deli cheese in smaller than quarter pound increments and I wanted both cheddar and munster cheese.

I went home with my haul and made the first sandwich, first slathering on a thick layer of mayonnaise on both sides of the bread then filling it with the sprouts, tomatoes, onion and the cheese. Oh the cheese. I sat down on the couch and filled my mouth with that first delicious bite. I paused for a moment to let the flavors fully seep into my mouth before chewing slowly and swallowing deeply. The first sandwich was gone too quickly and I went to the kitchen. The second sandwich was supposed to be for dinner. No matter, I still felt hungry. So I made that second sandwich and it was good.

I did the same thing the next day.  And the next. And the next.  My rational was, alfalfa is expensive. I had to finish the carton.

I am allergic to cheese. Did I fail to mention that? It isn't an allergy, really, and I don't think that I am actually lactose intolerant. The lactose pills do nothing for me. Also, I don't just get gas and bloating when I eat cheese. There is more. It seems that I do not metabolize lactic acid at all. So it comes out as acid. Yeah. Uh huh. That's what happens. And yet I eat it anyway.

This time was different. I happened to be trying out probiotics for a different reason. It seems that the probiotics neutralized the impact of the cheese on my gut or blocked it or something because by the fourth day, I started to experience an entirely different and quite bizarre reaction to the cheese. I started to weep. Specifically, my right eye had fluid pouring out from it at regular intervals. It's like when you are out side in the wind and that causes your eyes to tear up. The sinus pain started and I figured, ah hah. I am totally clogged up in the head.

After three days of this I got worried and went to the optometrist to ask whether I was going to lose my eye. At first he suspected that I had dry eye but then I told him about the cheese. "Ah, yes," he said, shaking his head. Your body is trying to get rid of the toxins." I actually felt a little relieved. I wasn't going blind. "Why do you eat the cheese?" the pert young clerk asked from behind the counter. I just looked at her from over the top of my glasses (I couldn't wear my contacts). "Because," I said. What, really, is an addict supposed to say? I eat the cheese because.

Eventually I banned myself from the cheese counter but I knew that this would be only temporary unless I took drastic action. Every year, sometimes several times a year, I went through binges like this. And when I wasn't binging it was the cheese puffs and the sour cream-and-onion potato chips from the corner deli. I had to do something revolutionary, something I hadn't tried before, something that would completely re-start my digestive system and my brain.

Being at my parents' place was like being at a spa - or in rehab. Being away from familiar people and surroundings is really helpful to an addict's recovery process. The moment I returned to my own neighborhood, my old cravings came back with a vengeance and I tumbled headlong (and with a smile) into the cheesy abyss. I had to stop this cycle.

I couldn't do cheat days or portion control, I couldn't allow myself the possibility of ever touching a morsel of the foods that made me ill. They triggered my cravings and I had to stop seeing them as food in the first place. From now on, food would consist of the following things: Vegetables, fruit, nuts and seeds, legumes, and wild rice. To re-program my body I had to strip everything down to the barest of basics, let all memory of the other substances leave me. They would be like meat has been for all of my life: Non-existent to my palate. For forty days I would consume nothing but raw, unprocessed, whole vegetables and fruit with some nuts and seeds thrown in. Nothing cooked, everything pureed.

I couldn't leave my neighborhood. But I could change how I navigated it. I started to prepare for my juice feast by re-defining what places in my neighborhood were visible to me, rendering the others invisible. Here's what I mean. I already had certain places designated as invisible. McDonald's is invisible to me as is Burger King and Applebee's. These are places into which I simply do not enter.

I prefer to think affirmatively, though, so rather than decide where I could not go, I developed a very special list of places that I would go. These were designated clean spaces, not quite sacred spaces, but safe spaces. There is the Uptown Juice Bar on 125th Street and Serendipity on Frederick Douglass Boulevard and Island Salad around the corner, the farmer's market and the produce section of any grocery store. I made note of juice bars around the city - and bathrooms. Yes, bathrooms. You juice, you pee. It kinda comes with the territory.

I also cleaned up my diet for the week before my juice feast started. I stopped eating wheat and cheese. In fact, I had a ceremonial last pizza, a deep dish from Little Caesars. I ate it over a two day period. I keep the receipt from that one in my bag to commemorate my last pizza. I did eat cooked food - including brown rice and oatmeal. I portioned out my groceries so that I would run out of my non-vegetable groceries on the day before my juice feast began. I worked out five days a week for the two weeks before the feast began and increased my water intake.

Then came the day before my Juice Feast began. Thursday, October 17, 2013. I planned that day out with precision: When and where to buy my juicer, when and where to eat my last cooked meal.  I chose Uptown Juice Bar for my last cooked meal. It was truly delicious.

Breakfast Day One

On Friday morning, October 18, 2013, I walked into my kitchen and began my feast. I deliberately chose to make a high calorie smoothie - bananas and frozen mango. That's my first meal in the picture. I knew that three bananas and two cups of mango would get me through to my next meal without a problem.

Lunch Day One

Meal two was not so bad. I wouldn't put apples and beets together anymore. In fact, I now understand that I am not the biggest fan of beet juice as a general matter. Beets are really strong and I find them best used in contemplated moderation.

Dinner Day One

Dinner was the best. This is actually dinner from day two. I'm not sure what has happened to the photo from day one. Tomatoes and carrots and celery, cabbage and kale with fresh basil and lemon. I didn't even miss the cheese. Mostly.

On the second day I went to the farmer's market to stock up. I had to plan my trip strategically since the great water purge had begun. I was in the bathroom every fifteen minutes or so. I managed to scurry out to the market, very efficiently make my purchases, then race back to my apartment building and the refuge of the bathroom.

I remember feeling hungry that day - and dizzy and weak. I could hear my cells cursing at me, pacing up and down, arms flailing, outraged. This was normal, I knew that. I didn't like it but I knew it. Dinner's rich, sweet tomato sauce helped to ease my suffering.


By day three, I could hear my cells sobbing and begging for mercy. For breakfast I had bananas and blueberries. The sugar rush (uncomfortable until it eased back) helped sooth my body's wailing
somewhat. By lunch, however, the pretense was over. The gloves were of. I was pissed. I finished that noon-time juice and went t
o my room to lay down. After about an hour, my stomach pangs became so acute that I could again hear my belly pleading, now bewildered and unhinged. Then it came to me: I was hungry. And I could eat! I had all that produce there in the kitchen. Nothing said I could only have three juices a day.

The whole point of the raw vegan lifestyle is abundance, FullyRawKristina, said again and again. I could have as much as I wanted, dammit! And so I literally stomped into the kitchen, flung open the refrigerator, hauled out the veggies and threw them into the juicer. After a whirl in the Vita-Mix to add pulp, I poured the juice, dutifully photographed it, then pounded it back like a sailor winning the drinking game of drinking games. It normally took me about two hours to finish a thirty-ounce juice. I swallowed that one in five minutes. I literally felt it hit the back of my throat than drop straight down into my stomach. Thud. I was breathless at the end of it. After another five minutes, I began to feel better. Not good, but better.

I had other side effects. I developed a post nasal drip (also expected) and my skin became very dry. I didn't expect that but then I remembered seeing something about dry skin on a juice feast. And the East Coast suddenly experienced a cold snap. I always had really dry skin in the winter. I slathered on more lotion. I huddled on my bed and watched video after video of various people preparing raw meals. Oddly, watching other people prepare food and eat it (especially watching them eat it) helped me to feel better.

Breakfast

On Monday, day four, I woke up feeling a little woozy but much better than the day before. The worst, it seemed, had passed. I had decided to continue exercising five days a week during my fast. I planned to modify my workout by slowing down and choosing an easier route. I did not, however, remember to reduce my time. In fact, I ended up going fifteen minutes over my normal workout time. I felt invincible! For about four hours.

I teach an evening class on Mondays so I decided to do my laundry during the day when things are quiet. I got a late start and found myself desperately rushing to get the job done. I was tossing dirty clothes into the washer when I became aware that I couldn't move very well. I felt as though I were immersed in a jug of molasses or walking through tar. I tried to grip a bottle of detergent to open it and found that I could not quite grasp it and then I could not open my hand. As I walked, my legs would bend and then I had to focus on straightening them again. Every movement was in slow motion. I wasn't sore - I just couldn't move.

Breakfast

This was bad. Really, really bad. I had to teach that night and I had no idea how long this would go on or whether it would get worse. Eventually I called my mother (she's a nurse practitioner) and confessed to her what I was doing. I told her about my symptoms. Was it a lack of potassium? I doubted it because I had eaten four bananas that morning. She told me to take a hot shower and at the end, turn the water all the way cold. That would shock my muscles and keep me from getting too much stiffer. "I don't have time for a shower," I wailed to her. "Well then, you're just going to have to tough it out."My mom is all warrior like that.

Tough it out is what I did. I told my students about my juice feast (as I slogged through my lunch smoothie). I warned them that I just might clench up and fall over. After they stopped rolling around with laughter they promised to call 911 and take care of me.

There is a great big table and a podium in each classroom. I used both of them to stay upright for most of class. I made sure to have my hand on something solid at all times. Somehow I made it through class and waded my way back home. And found my way to my bed. And wanted to cry because I was going to have to do it all again in the morning.

Tuesday morning, day five, came with a pleasant surprise: I wasn't sore, and I could move! I got up and did my workout (the truly modified version, this time) and felt great! Mostly. I didn't feel as sick, the post-nasal drip had stopped, and my cells had stopped hollering at me and I was getting the hang of the juices.

Dinner to Go

I continued to spend a lot of time on Youtube watching videos about health and nutrition and raw food. It was my way of brainwashing myself, so to speak, so that I came out with a different mentality about what constitutes food. I would walk past pizza shops chanting to myself, "That is not food. That is not food. That is not food." If someone passed me on the street carrying a pizza or eating french fries, I chanted the mantra, "That is not food. That is not food. That is not food."  Before I sat down to drink my juice I chanted, "This is food. This is food. This is food." It works for cults. Why not for healthy reasons?


It took another two days for me to feel completely well and satisfied when I drank the juices. My problem now was getting enough! I chose the raw food method because I love to eat which is perfect because one must eat a lot of raw food to get enough calories. I discovered that I simply was not getting enough. Juicing can be frightfully expensive and time consuming what with the regular shopping and the prep time involved. I developed techniques to significantly reduce the time (I'll be sharing those in later blogs) and I aimed to solve the problem of volume by adding pulp back into my juices. So, really, these we
re smoothies.

It is important to get the juice-to-pulp ratio just right and to slowly increase the amount of pulp in the juice and train the body to handle that much fiber. I remember the moment I discovered I'd gone to far. That was a rather uncomfortable afternoon.

Finally got the breakfast recipe right:
Loads of Collard Greens, only two apples,
1/2 large cucumber, 1/2 lemon, fresh ginger,
5 stalks of celery and a date.

I started writing this blog post on day nine.  It is now day fifteen. By day ten I felt that I had achieved my goal. My plan was for forty days. It turns out that I didn't need forty days. Even though I could still sort of remember what mac-and-cheese tasted like and had a pang of longing when I saw a woman eating french fries on the subway, I felt that I wouldn't be so tempted to go back to eating like that at this point. I truly had developed a self-discipline that I could rely on and, raw solid food really wasn't all that different from juicing taste wise.

I decided to push on for another four days to make it an even fourteen. Then I'd try raw food for another fourteen days before considering whether to bring in cooked food again. That would be just in time for Thanksgiving.

Finally got the juice to pulp ratio right!

I haven't talked about my weight because that really isn't the focus for me. Lifestyle is my focus. Still, I am keeping track and I am taking pictures for before and after. I do find those validating and inspiring. I think I might do a reveal at the six-week mark.

I can eat solid raw food now but I'm slugging back a green smoothie for breakfast. I plan to make that my regular breakfast even when I can eat cooked food. I can't wait for lunch! My adventure in the raw continues.