Aaand... We're ClearI made it. Day ten was yesterday, and I was so excited about downing my last gulp of lemonade that I'd polished it off by 3PM. This morning, I began the process of weaning myself back to a regular diet with a tall glass of orange juice, with several more to follow as the day carries on. The juice smelled absolutely delicious when I waved it under my nose before my first sip, but I found myself disappointed by the flavor. It's not that it was particularly bad, or that it had gone sour or anything, it... was just orange juice. My mouth didn't explode into an orgasm of flavorful joy, my eyes didn't well up with tears, and my body didn't feel any different. I'd been hoping that my return to something I routinely enjoyed before the diet would prove to be a familiar, wonderful moment, but it was more like a return to the day-to-day. It was definitely a let-down.
The last two days of the fast were far and away my easiest. Although I was still making routine bathroom visits, (which hasn't changed thus far) I felt genuinely good from head to toe. Nothing exquisite or unusual, just good. Which sums up the whole of my experience with the fast - I enjoyed it, but not so much that I'll be thinking about a second fast any time soon. I never experienced some of the things I was most looking forward to - the consistent boosts of energy, the shortened sleep cycles, the regularly cleansed nostrils - and found that the difficulties of the hard days outweighed the pleasantries of the good ones. I'm sure that, if I were to stay on the fast for another week or so, the scales would even out a little bit. That's just not a commitment I feel ready to make right now, though. I enjoy my meals far too much to go another week without them. I've been anticipating a steak dinner at Hop's for a week and a half now, and even the concept of pushing it back another day or two is enough to darken my day considerably. That steak has kept me going for ten days of lemonade, and now I can almost taste it.
Still, I'm happy I tried this fast out. My body does feel much lighter, airier and healthier than before. I have a lingering hunch that my body wasn't really all that unhealthy to begin with, but that it was good for me to give it a good cleansing all the same. Twenty seven years' worth of accumulated crap can't be good for the internals, no matter how insignificant it may appear in contrast to most of the population's baggage. I stepped onto the scales for my final weigh-in this morning and discovered that I'd lost twelve pounds since day one. More than a pound a day - that's not bad at all. I know it'll all come right back if I don't change something about my lifestyle, too, so Autumn and I are thinking about buying a pair of bikes and starting a weekend habit of exploring the neighborhood. Man, does that sound sickeningly suburban. Somebody slap me before I start gardening.