It was the parmesan cheese that did me in. I am sad and pathetic and weak.
I had made a quinoa and kamut pasta with sauteed rapini and without even thinking about it, sprinkled the parm across the top. D’oh! As the point of the whole exercise was to keep the body free of all foods that were potential toxins, I wasn’t quite sure what to do. In theory, I should start all over again, not just brush off what I could and not worry about it.
Then this morning, the coffee called to me. “Sheryl…” it whispered. “You know you want me. I’m a delightful dark roast of Tanzanian peaberry beans. You made me yourself in your little roaster. Did you know that organic coffee is actually an ANTIoxidant and has a plethora of healthful properties? Remember that study that showed that women who drank a cup of coffee per day had a lower rate of Alzheimers disease?” And then the coffee won. Because even greater than my fear of being fat, cancerous and full of illness is my fear of being eighty and not remembering where I left my teeth.
I’ll go into more detail next week when I post my review of the Great American Detox Diet to FitFare, but my assessment, in a nutshell, is this: if a person doesn’t have the self-control to get off the fast-food rollercoaster, there’s not a hope in hell that they’ll have the self-control to stick to a detox diet. At least not without someone doing the menu planning, shopping and cooking for them.
I may give it another go next month when Greg is away for a week on business and I can lock myself in the apartment and not come in contact with other people and their food. But having to try to do this while also preparing reasonable meals for someone not doing the detox with me was just too tough. It’s no fun sipping tea and eating fruit when the person across the table from you has beer and chips or coffee and pastries.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go apologize to the bread for neglecting it for so long.