Thursday, 31 December 2015

Mmmmmmm...juice.

After giving it some thought, and after doing some reading and watching "Fat, Sick, and Nearly Dead", I've decided to try juicing.  Yuuuuuup, I'm going to go on a juice fast to get back into good health and lose weight. 

I'm aware that some of the science is missing (huge gaps is more like it). Removing the fiber from my food may not make sense from a digestive health perspective but I think that will be balanced out by gaining more nutrients.  Lack of protein is another potential problem but as the book I have recommends plant-based protein supplements I figure that angle is covered.

I'll start my juice fast on January 2, which will consist of juice four times a day and salad/fruit in between, for five days.  After that the real juice fast begins during which I will consume nothing but juice for at least 20 days. I'm strangely excited, and can hardly wait to go shopping tomorrow!

I experimented with making some juice a few days ago to see how my juicer worked.  I wanted to know how much hassle it would be. After all, if this proves to be a big fucking nuisance there's a 100% chance that I will fall off the wagon before I even begin. It's important that I work toward making sure I have every chance to succeed.

My Hamilton Beach Big Mouth juicer. Big Mouth, hahaha.

It looked a little daunting, to be honest, but when I took it apart and washed it, I found that it was pretty straightforward. You shove vegetables and fruit in the top, whirly blades chop and press the shit out of it, and the lifeblood of the produce sluices down a trough and into the waiting glass.  It's like a miniature game of pitz/virgin sacrifice.


Just like juicing a vegetable.

All I had in the fridge was celery and a few carrots.  I figured those were fairly common-or-garden (no pun intended) juicing vegetables so decided I would use them for my first juicing attempt.


 My victims.
 
I had read on several juicing sites that it was a good idea to line the pulp-catcher bucket (not the technical term) with a plastic bag to make for easier cleanup. What a great idea!  All I had to do was pluck the bulk of the pulp right out. No muss, no fuss! 
 
 
Half in the bag.

The juicer was noisy, but I had been warned about that, so it was no surprise. It will be annoying, but it's not a deal-breaker.

Can you hear their agonized screams?

As you can see, four carrots and one stick of celery grinds down into about 1/2 cup of juice. This is going to be an expensive diet, especially a) out of season and b) in Canada, where it's always out of season.  Again, nothing I wasn't warned about, but I still anticipate some sticker shock when I run my groceries through the till.



It's messy, but it's not as bad as it looks.

The pulp was pretty dry, which is a good thing.

Some close-ups of the pulp thingamagigger. Now you can see why the plastic baggie is a good idea.

This is the inside lid of the pulp dealio. As you can see, the plastic bag doesn't shield everything.  For what it's worth, cleanup was pretty easy. Everything washed up well. The little grinder thing was a minor nuisance. I thought I got it clean, but the next day I saw shitty little fibers stuck in the grater. Next time I'll have to give it a better go with the wee scrubber the manufacturer so thoughtfully included.

Like a condom, the plastic bag isn't 100% effective.

The juice itself wasn't unpleasant.  Taste-wise, it was carrots with a slight bouquet hint of celery. SURPRISE!  I think it would be better chilled, with a shot of vodka. ALSO A SURPRISE!
 
Virgin blood.
 
For the next few days, this will be the only juice I drink. Happy New Year!
 


Wednesday, 30 December 2015

My anus is bleeding...



 <====This

I turned 50 this year.  In Saskatchewan, a veritable paradise of low unemployment, extra vacation (3 weeks minimum, y'all!) and socialized medicine, everyone who reaches this venerable age is sent a FIT kit, which provides easy and early testing for colon cancer.  No, I don't know what FIT stands for.  Yes, participation is voluntary.

The test itself is simple. You shit onto a paper plate then use the little scraper they provide to gather a sample from the top layer of crap. The scraper goes into a sterile holder, which gets wrapped up in a protective cloth. This arrangement gets popped into a self-addressed, stamped envelope. You can either drop your shit off at a lab, or put it in the mail. What you do with the shit remaining on the paper plate is, of course, up to you.

After procrastinating the FIT kit I finally got around to doing it in the middle of December. I wasn't really too concerned about the whole ass cancer thing. After all, I had a colonoscopy at the end of August. I was diagnosed with mild diverticulosis and they found small hemorrhoids, which they banded and presumably destroyed. No ass cancer, thank you very much, but I was told that running and biking aren't good for hemorrhoids (also not good for hemorrhoids? Sitting around getting fat. But I digress) and sent on my merry way. So what could the FIT kit analysis possibly find?

Spoiler alert:  The analysis found blood.

I'm still not too worried. The blood is undoubtedly from my stupid fucking hemorrhoids and I doubt they'll recommend another colonoscopy. Still, it's yet another wakeup call. I need to mend my sorry ways while I still have sorry ways to mend.

Just for shits (see what I did there) and giggles, I thought I'd list my other various bodily plagues and stresses:
  • Anal bleeding (not rivers of it, but still)
  • Tired
  • Shitty memory
  • Lack of focus
  • Headaches
  • Sinus problems/post-nasal drip
  • Sore joints, especially knees
  • Dry skin
  • Dry eyes
  • Hair loss
  • Always clearing throat
  • Chest pains
  • High cholesterol
  • High blood pressure
  • Mood swings, no patience
  • Depression
  • Chest congestion/wheezing
  • Back pain
  • Numb hands
  • Shoulder/upper arm pain
  • Acid reflux
  • Gas and
  • Aching muscles
  • Nose psoriasis
  • Cystic acne
Oh yeah, and I'm a fat ass.

I think it will be interesting to check back in a month to see how things are going. Will my symptoms have abated after a month of healthier living?  It can't get worse (I hope), and I sure look forward to it getting better.

Monday, 28 December 2015

Ugh.

Well hoo- to the fucking ray.  It's that time of year again.  You know, that time when I realize what a complete and utter fuckup I am. 

I've gained back all of the weight I worked so hard to lose this summer. This means that not only have I gained back everything I lost in 2012, I've added another 25 pounds to that insanity.  I look like shit and, more importantly, I feel like shit.  My knees hurt.  I'm constantly out of breath.  I have acid reflux.  My cholesterol and my blood pressure are high.  My chest hurts.

The pleasures of the table and the bottle outrank everything else right now.  My husband, my family, my career, my future, and even my health take a back seat to the instant gratification provided by food and drink.

I'm afraid.

So I will do what frightened people everywhere do: Run.  I will run until I'm no longer afraid.  I will run until I get to where I want and need to be, and then I will run some more.

I will run.