It’s About Juicing. And Smoothies. And a Little About Algae.

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I did another Pilates workout yesterday. Because apparently, I like pain now. I’m in love with it. It’s my new boyfriend.

No it’s not. I hate pain. Actually, I hate discomfort. Of any type. But pain too.

Ouch.

Okay, complaining portion is over. I swear.

Let’s talk about juicing and smoothies. A good long while ago, my husband found a info-mentary on Netflix called Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead. In it, this man who lost a bunch of weight by juicing, convinces some folks to follow his plan and juice-fast themselves to slimdom. Needless to say, I ran out and borrowed a juicer the next day. Eventually, I bought one, buoyed by the success of a weeklong juice fast.

JUICE ALL THE VEGETABLES! (Credit to Allie Brosh, author and artist at Hyperbole and a Half. Any time you see that image of a primitively drawn person, holding a stick arm out in victory, with the caption *blank* all the *blank*, that’s from Allie’s original artwork. It’s all funny, but never as funny as her original post, which I’ve helpfully linked for you. Follow that link. Now.

Finally back? You’re fucking welcome. I told you.)

Anyway, I’ve not reached slimdom.

At the time, I recognized the “documentary” as a naked attempt to sell Breville juicers. I bought a $40 GE juicer at Walmart and it did the job. I felt great. But I missed real food. A LOT. 2 years later, I’m still fat, not sick and not even remotely dead. My juicer is dusty. A year ago, my husband bought me a Vitamix. So I’d start juicing again. What a lovely and expensive way to tell me to get off my fat ass and lose some damn weight. As a middle finger to  my thoughtful spouse, I gained ten pounds. Because I’m me.

But Pinterest being what it is, I eventually caved and started making smoothies. Green smoothies. They look like swamp algae and taste like a peanut butter milkshake, so it’s been a mixed blessing in my life. And each smoothie has 4 servings of fruits and veggies. Yeah, 4. I’m a health machine, baby. But a stealthy one, because you don’t expect a health machine to weigh 240 pounds. I sneak up on you. Watch your back.

Sorry, I’m in a mood.

Because I’m nice and respectful of copyright, I’m linking you to the blog that has my favorite green smoothie recipe. It really is delicious. You can’t taste the spinach at all. I swear.

And now, I’m going to clean my house. We’re having friends over for dinner tomorrow and I find people eat more if your kitchen doesn’t look like it might give them gastro-intestinal disease. And fyi, I’m counting the housework as my workout today. Sparkpeople said I could.

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4 responses »

  1. The last time we had dinner at a friend’s house, besides the assortment of dust bunnies and dog hair settled on most surfaces, there was a small gang of fruit flies partying in a bowl of what appeared to be shriveled lemons sporting green fur coats. To be polite, I faked a spastic bladder and we ran for our lives. Clean kitchens are more appetizing – for reals.

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