In Memoriam on Day 3

Tuesday, March 28, 2006
People describe the life of drinking lemonade as "boring," and sometimes fall off the cleanse out of sheer need to break the monotony. Yet I find so many fun things to do while cleansing, like observing the oddities of life on the Porcelain Throne. So before I continue:

I want to call a moment of silence for the toilet paper rolls that are murdered in large numbers while cleansing. [ ]

It's amazing how little time passes before the lifeless little brown tub is hanging helplessly from the roll. One day, the roll is loaded with soft quilted goodness, and the next day it's just a shell of its former self. I wonder if the septic system would need an upgrade if everybody in my townhouse community cleansed at the same time.

I imagine how teams of preschoolers could have endless fun hours of toilet-roll-cardboard-thingy craft projects. Parents would squeal with glee as the next "I love you mommy" project was sent home.

Here's how Day 2 went yesterday:

• I drank 53.8 ounces of lemonade (5 glasses) plus 20 ounces of fresh spring water
• It took my P.M. Senna tea exactly 7 hours to work, but this time, it "worked" for about an hour. I was up from 3am to 4am killing more toilet paper.
• The strange dull aches in both ears lasted all day long.
• I continued to have nagging pains in certain joints, but it subsided by evening
• I found myself watching cooking shows, excited about eating healthy foods after the cleanse. I didn't want food though, even when they pulled the fresh Italian pizza from the oven.
  
• Cooking dinner for my son was easy. He had an organic pizza with basil pesto and a whole wheat crust. I wasn't the least bit interested.
• I do still fantasize about my next opportunity to have chitlins, but the good thing is, I don't want them right now.

Day 2 of My Third Cleanse

Monday March 27, 2006

Today is Day 2 of my third cleanse. This cleanse rolled-in with no red carpet and no parade. I managed to start without a huge blog introduction or ticker-tape confetti. I even skipped the "I'm getting ready" speech from a hilltop, complete with local news cameras.

This cleanse tiptoed in more like a lamb than a lion because I'm feeling like an old pro. Honestly, the nutty anxiety and the frantic shopping weren't present. In fact, last night, mom said, "Wow, I didn't even know you were on another fast."

This is starting to feel like a familiar road. It's kinda like driving home from work. You've done it so much, that you give little attention to the whole affair. That's in stark contrast to driving to an unfamiliar place, when you might turn off the radio, glare out of the window, and tell passengers to "hush" as you try to read the road signs.

For me, there's no staring out of the window with a white-knuckled grip on the wheel. The cleanse feels natural and right.

A member of the Yahoo group (guruin2) recently dubbed cleansing "an expression of pure love for myself." The rest of us have embraced that statement as the most accurate mission, purpose, and victorious result of cleansing. If you've ever seen a person drive miles to find the right gas for their car, but fuel their own bodies with deadly garbage, then you truly understand the need for "self love" above "car love," especially if you want to ride in a real car instead of the funny looking car riding at the front of a funeral.

It's still early on Day 2, but I can share a few blurbs:

• I started the day at 6:15am with Senna tea. By 11:05am, I was making Toilet Soup.
• Mild headaches, runny nose, body aches, and mild earaches reveal some quick cleansing work going on.
• If you have the habit of waiting until the last minute to go to the bathroom, stop it. Stop it now. I just received a close-call reminder that the first "gurgle" means RUN.
  

If My Life Was a Car...

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

...I would be sitting firmly in the driver's seat. But a pesky front-seat passenger would have a hand on the steering wheel, fumbling a foot on the pedals, and causing me to swerve off the path. At least backseat drivers have no real influence. They don't have access to the driver's tools. In fact, backseat drivers only have useless guidance and annoying voices.

But my passenger is sitting in the front of my car. I'm able to keep a general direction, but I find myself drifting, and stopping to repair damage after swerving into obstacles. My pesky passenger is an unreasonable relationship with food. Notice I didn't say FOOD itself?

When was the last time a pie jumped off a plate and down down someone's throat? Food itself has zero influence. It's the crappy choice to invite food into every crevice of life. Joy calls for food. Celebration calls for food. Boredom calls for food. Happiness comes over for a party, and food gets an invitation. In fact, even mourning calls for... you guessed it... food. A drug addict has nothing on a PMSing woman who wants chocolate. NOW.

I decided to consider a time or circumstance where food isn't on the list of invitees, since the food list is so long.

[cue the chirping crickets and hollow echo]

So here I am. Driving my car. I can almost see the destination, or at least a few places I'd love to stop and visit. Mr. Poor Eating Habits causes the trip to stall in all kinds of ways.

• I'm introduced to migraines at the age of 16
  
• I pop up with high cholesterol at the ripe old age of 23
• I develop digestive problems that require medication in my mid to late 20's
• Around the same time, I'm on a beta blocker for heart palpitations
• In my late 20's, I develop menstrual problems
• And for most of this time, I'm fighting to get to a healthy (and sexy *wink) weight
  

The list seems to go on forever because I haven't kicked the annoying passenger out of my car... So I stop and pick up another passenger. Good Health Habits climbs into the back of the car. Poor Eating Habits turns around with a scowl. Now they're fighting, and I'm happy to have an extra passenger who's on my side.

My new passenger has a huge bag loaded with weapons. Cleansing/Fasting/Detoxing. Whole and organic food. Lots of water. An attitude that I deserve to win every good blessing.

I'm turning a sharp corner, and the door flies open on Poor Eating Habits' side of the car. He holds on to keep from getting ejected onto the highway. Now if I can only get the seatbelt loose, and add one final swift kick in the...

Rock on,
Hawa

Watch Where You Swing that Daggone Bat!

Tuesday, March 7, 2006
A young man is given at baseball bat as a birthday gift. On one path, he uses that bat to learn the game and become a wealthy sports figure. On another path, he uses that bat to commit a horrible crime.

Was the bat good or bad?

Just like any other tool, like hammers, love, or even sex, the bat didn't have an absolue "good" or "bad" value. The intent and motivation of the user sealed the determination.

If you know me at all, I have a sly way to connect this post to cleansing. Here goes:

As a moderator at the Yahoo group for cleansers, I am alarmed by the number of people who are bordering on abusing the cleansing tool.

In one corner, you have the folks who are prepared for the long term committment to health and recognize the cleanse as a great starter. These Gold Star Cleansers have a mature plan, read the book carefully, stick to the rules, and don't attempt strange home-remedies.

In the other corner, you have the folks who just want to lose weight. Fast. Too fast. These Red Flag Cleansers usually have lofty weight loss goals, don't want to read the book, couldn't care less about toxins, and put themselves at risk with miscellaneous cleanse antics. And most of all, they really scare me.

The language of a Red Flag Cleanser usually screams,

"I'm ready to replace my eating dysfunction with dangerous cleansing dysfunction. I don't want to read a book. I want somebody to give me the lemonade recipe and leave me alone. I'll do this fast until I can't take it anymore, and I'll come off by eating a double cheesburger, risking my health in the process. I'll weigh myself everyday and I demand to see the pounds drop to the floor. If I can't achieve that by Day 3, I'll declare that this cleanse doesn't work, and ignore the other improvements in my health."

I have a serious, personal desire to see people's health turn 180 degrees. I fight the battle everyday. As I win, which I will, I want to take a crap-load of people with me. Until then, I ask you to examine which team you're on (Gold Star or Red Flag). If you're on the Red Flag team (and I've been there before), admit it first and jump to the Gold Star side.

I've been on both sides of the health war, and the grass really is greener... okay.... more golden... over here.

Love ya all. Let's win together.
With a heart of love,
Hawa

Fascination

Thursday, March 2, 2006
As my thighs become reacquainted with each other and make that reunion swishing sound, I have a renewed fascination with our relationship to food. Over at the Yahoo group, we have a lively conversation going about using food to escape - and other links between food and emotions. Once you go on a cleanse with no food for 10 or more days, you learn just how often you think about food. A thin and healthy coworker even found himself surprised over impulse food habits that he'd developed over the years. One member of the board posted a most interesting theory:

Its funny how weight gain actually manifests itself into an emotional disorder. A period of short term stress with long hours and little sleep can cause a person to adopt unhealthy eating habits in order to cope with the stress. As the unhealthy eating causes a person to gain weight, they begin to feel sluggish and lazy and begin to reduce any physical activities previously enjoyed.

This in turn leads to more weight gain. When the gain has reached a point where it is readibly noticeable by the person and their peers, then self esteem issues begin to surface generating stress leading to more unhealthy eating habits. Also, most unhealthy eating habits involve large amounts of bad carbs which I personally know to be addictive.

Looking back over the past several years, I can't remember a lonely, stressful, angry, or sad moment that I didn't stuff with a comfort food. Sadly enough, commercials are openly promoting the strategy of stuffing an emotional issue with crappy food.

So I'm actively searching for a replacement. I'm firing comfort food on the spot, and hanging the "help wanted" sign. Who or what should apply for the job? Use the comments feature to share your answers, and I'll post my responses to your suggestions.

I have a few ideas of my own, and I am on a serious personal mission to win a battle that many people lose. Besides missing the mark God established for the body-as-temple, I realize that I don't look or feel like the "me" I know and love. I have plans for a long and prosperous life. Now only if I could get my thighs to cooperate...