Nine Days to Go: Week 2 of the Cleanse

Half way through week 2 of the cleanse. According to the book, change is happening internally, but I won’t necessarily feel it. It all depends on how “out of balance” my body was before the cleanse. Well, I guess it wasn’t too out of balance because I haven’t noticed much of a difference in the way I feel now and how I felt before the cleanse. It helps that I participated in the Elimination Week, preparing my body by taking out sugars, white flower, caffeine and alcohol from my diet.

It also could mean my pre-cleanse diet wasn’t as bad as I thought. I wasn’t eating as many fruits and vegetables, but I did drastically decrease the amount of white processed flower in my diet. I switched to decaf coffee. I started drinking more tea. I snacked on almonds and goji berries. I ate cereal with soymilk instead of regular milk. Maybe it’s those small changes that I had already made that’s making it easier for my body adjust to the cleanse diet.

In any case, I have nine days to go, and I’m going to see this thing through, darn it. Last night I attended Foursquare’s first birthday party at Lincoln Station. I knew there’d be alcohol. I knew there’d be cake. What I didn’t know is that it would be chocolate cake with chocolate frosting, my favorite. And also pizza, my other love. And the ultimate: Chocolate. Lava. Crunch. Cakes. All for free to celebrate one year since the birth of the latest social media craze.

When they brought in the chocolate sheet cake adorned with candles that spelled out HAPPY BIRTHDAY, my friend Julie pulled me away. “You need to stay far away from that,” she said. But I wanted to look at it. I wanted to bend down close to it and take a whiff. I wanted to be naughty and stick my finger in the frosting. I took a picture of it and uploaded it to Facebook. “Help!” I pleaded to my Facebook friends.

“Hurry! Go outside and have a cigarette!” My cousin Vince jokingly responded.

The pizza wasn’t as hard to resist. After all, it was Domino’s. But the small boxes carrying two chocolate lava crunch cakes to take home almost killed me. The thought crossed my mind. Maybe just…one…little…bite.

“I wonder if I can take the molten cakes home and freeze them,” I said to Julie. But I figured by the time the cleanse was over, I might as well just walk to Domino’s and purchase fresh molten cakes to bring home. Or even better, treat myself to a gorgeous dinner at Quartino, which not only offers molten cake for dessert, but also hot, fresh donut holes with honey and chocolate dipping sauces. Mmmmm.

“Stay strong!” My Facebook friends encouraged. “You can do it! May the force be with you, sista!”

So last night I resisted. I persevered. And I went home with no chocolate lava crunch cakes.

Nine days to go.

Week 1 of the Cleanse: Where did this will power come from?

So I’m half way through Week 1 of the cleanse, and so far the biggest surprise is that I'm doing just fine. Where did this will power come from? I’ve never been disciplined when it came to a healthy diet. But Dr. Junger’s book, Clean, is developed in a way that makes it easy for even a foodie like me to give her body a much needed brake from processed foods and breads.

Sure, during Elimination Week last week I had the munchies almost every night, craving Fritos and McDonalds and chocolate. I stopped watching the Food Network, a regular visitor in my home, because I feared temptation from Paula Deen and Rachael Ray. But I ignored the hankerings, and instead sipped on chamomile tea with agave syrup (no honey aloud) or drank water with lemon, and that seemed to help.

I also found recipes in the book and online that I like enough to keep using after I complete the program, which makes sticking to the cleanse easier. On the My Clean Program website, a sort of Facebook for people doing the cleanse, I found a delicious recipe for an almond crust that I use on chicken breast and salmon (see recipe below). I lay the chicken or fish on a bed of mixed greens with homemade dressing, also from the book, add some quinoa or brown rice, and I have a healthy meal to add to my regular diet that I actually crave. By the beginning of this week, I was watching Food Network again, hoping to learn more healthy tips.

The Clean program consists of two liquid meals and one solid meal, preferably at lunch, a day. At first I thought having a liquid meal for dinner would be an adjustment, but I’ve actually enjoyed not having to cook at night after a long day of writing and running errands. I’ve tried a couple of the soups from the book, but neither of them will make it to the post-cleanse menu. I’ve enjoyed the energy smoothies that I have in the morning, but I miss coffee, scrambled eggs and toast. And pancakes. And pizza. And alcohol. I frown every morning at the new coffeemaker that I just got as a birthday present. But I did manage to bar hop last Saturday with my friends and drank water the entire time.

So far the withdrawal symptoms I’ve experienced aren’t severe. I get mild headaches and I’ve been sneezing a lot. Dr. Junger says by Week 2 I’ll start to see positive changes including more energy and clearer skin. So we’ll see.

Only two and a half weeks to go.

Almond Crust:

1/2 cup of roasted, unsalted almonds

1 garlic clove

1/2 teaspoon of coarse salt

3 tablespoons of extra-virgin olive oil

Combine in a food processor. Rub on to chicken breast or fish and bake. Yum!

Day One of a Month Long Journey to Clean

Day one of Elimination Week. So far so good.

This week, I’m starting a cleansing program based on the book Clean by Alejandro Junger. For years, I’d thought about doing a cleanse but never had the incentive. Then last week, after consuming too much white bread over three days, I suffered ongoing headaches and sluggishness. And when my friend Charlene mentioned she was starting a cleanse based on this book, I took it as a sign. I just turned 39, spring is coming, and I booked a trip to Miami in April. Now was a good time to eliminate the toxins that have been accumulating in my body.

The main detox in the book Clean is one to three weeks. But before the detox is an Elimination Week that prepares the body for the cleanse. Sometimes while a person is detoxing, their body responds dramatically to eliminating the toxins that have built up over the years that can result in acne breakouts, headaches, and flu-like symptoms during the first few days of cleansing. The Elimination Week helps alleviate that. Eliminated from my diet this week are all the usual suspects: sugar, pasta, breads, dairy, caffeine, alcohol, processed foods. But also included are some surprises: Bananas, strawberries, and tomatoes are also stricken from the diet.

This morning I started with a green smoothie made from a recipe from Clean that include frozen pineapple and mango chunks, and almond milk, which isn’t as gross as it sounds. I also threw in an apple and some leftover green smoothie my brother gave me yesterday, contents unknown, but they should be kosher given his healthy lifestyle. Threw in some ice, blended it up, and it was actually a sweet, refreshing drink. Not what I would normally eat on a cold, damp morning, but I drank the whole serving.

Lunch was a mixed salad with a homemade dressing of grape seed oil, lemon juice, garlic, basil, thyme and parsley. At the cafe where I do most of my writing, I sipped on naturally-decaffeinated chamomile tea with stevia, since honey is a no-no. I like using stevia in my lemon water, but in coffee and tea, it gives a funky aftertaste. Not sure if this is something I’ll get used to, or if I have to skip drinking herbal tea during the cleanse. Someone suggested using agave syrup, which I bought yesterday during my cleansing stock up at Whole Foods. I may give that a try. For dinner I heated up a bowl of left over brown rice with veggies and roasted chicken. During the cleanse, which begins next Monday, I’ll have to consume two liquid meals and one solid meal a day.

Now that it’s ten o’clock at night, I’m sitting on the couch trying not to let the fast food commercials discourage me. Throughout the evening, I felt hungry. But according to the book, the body “benefits so hugely from the break in digestion that if the body were completely in charge of things, there wouldn’t be a problem…It learns to function well and feel good on two liquid meals and one solid meal a day.”

My goal is to finish all three weeks of the cleanse, with Easter being the first day I’ll get to indulge. But I’ll have to see how I do after Week 1 of the main cleanse. For now, I’m taking it one day at a time.

Saying Goodbye

Last week, my family and I said goodbye to Mark Herring, a boy that lived on the same floor at Misericordia as my brother, Michael. I don’t know how many years I’d known Mark. My memories of him blur into a collage of brief encounters, moments I spent with him while visiting my brother. Like the time Mark was reading a Best Buy catalogue and I asked him if he was buying a new flat screen TV. Or the time my dad and I were taking Michael to Easter Mass in the rotunda, and Mark asked if he could go along. So I walked beside him as he steered his powered wheelchair down the hall, my father pushing Michael in his chair next to us, and we sat together during mass.

I don’t remember the last time I saw Mark before he died. Lots of times it was in passing while I was visiting Michael. I’d see Mark down the hall and wave. Or I’d stop in the multi-purpose room where all the kids gathered to watch a DVD and give him a kiss or a high-five.

I was at Misericordia the Saturday before Mark died. Michael wasn’t feeling good, and mom and I stopped by for a visit. We spent a couple of hours by Michael’s bedside, talking to him, trying to make him laugh. I took a picture of mom and me holding Michael’s hands and uploaded it to Facebook. As we were leaving, we stopped by the nurses’ station to chat with the nurse on duty. The hallway was quiet, not filled with the usual kids hanging out playing, singing, or drawing. I peeked in the multi-purpose room, looking for Barb, Michael’s CNA, but I didn’t see Mark. If I had, I would’ve stopped to talk to him. Two days later my brother Chris called to tell me Mark died of a sudden heart attack.

I didn’t know a lot about Mark. I wasn’t even sure how old he was. Never met his family. It wasn’t until his funeral when I learned the answers to these questions. The laminated memorial cards told us Mark would have been seventeen in June. In the front row at the service sat his mom, sister, brother, grandmother and step dad. I’d never met them. None of us had. I gave his grieving mother a hug and told her how beautiful her son was. I was one of hundreds of strangers that came up to her that day. I wonder if she knew what an impact her son had on all of us.

Mark had impossibly long eyelashes. Dark and curled, like every woman’s dream. It was the first thing I saw as I knelt beside his small white coffin. I told him that I wished I’d spent more time with him when I had the chance, that I wished I’d seen him on that last Saturday of his life. We always regret the time we didn’t spend with someone once they’re gone. But it reminds us to cherish the time we have with ones who are still with us. 

Scent of a Season

Last week I finally turned on the heat when the thermostat in my apartment dropped below 70 degrees. The furnace chugged and coughed and rumbled as it awakened from its hibernation, and soon it released a gassy odor that spread throughout my home, an odor that only emits the first time I turn on the heat for the season. That smell is the official start of Fall for me, like the opening bell of the season. The scent makes me think of what the next few months will bring.

Like when my feet get icy cold while at the office, I’ll kick off my pumps and pull on my old knee-high, pale pink Uggs. With worn sheepskin and holes in the seams, they’re no longer adequate to wear outside during a Chicago winter, but perfect as an extra pair of slippers in the office. Putting my chilled feet into the plush fleece sockliner still brings a smile to my face.

I’m excited to put away my faded t-shirts and denim shorts and tired flip-flops that I wore all summer, and instead pull out long-sleeve sweaters and wool skirts and knee-high leather boots. I love putting on my leopard print beret that I bought in Provincetown and leaving it on even after I take off my coat and gloves. I love tying a scrunched pashmina around my neck.

I’ll get inspired to make homemade chicken broth. And while the broth is simmering for hours on the stove my home will fill with warmth, the windows will steam up, and the sweet aroma will sift out my front door and into the hallway so the neighbors can smell it the moment they step off the elevator.

I’ll fill my refrigerator drawers with a variety of apples picked from orchards in the northwest suburbs. I’ll think of recipes to use up all the apples before they rot: apple pie, apple crisp, applesauce, apple turnovers, baked apples…

I’ve covered my bed with the soft cotton yellow and white striped comforter that sat folded on top of my printer all summer. I pulled out the down throws and blankets and the Snuggie my brother got me for Christmas last year, and keep them on the couch for easy access.

I’ll kick off my shoes after a long day and pull on my favorite red slipper socks. My aunt searched every mercato in northern Italy until she found a pair and sent them to me. I love them because I don’t have to take them off when I want to curl up on the couch, and I can still wear them to go down and get the mail. One time I almost left home with them on.

I’ll consider the multiple invitations to Halloween parties around the city and brainstorm ideas for inexpensive costumes. I’ll buy a pumpkin, but won’t get around to carving it, then consider using it to make homemade pumpkin pie.

I’ll watch as the leaves on the trees in Lincoln Park turn from green to brownish-yellow and fall to the ground, and remember how grateful I am that I live in a condo with no yard to maintain.

Most of all, Fall is a prelude to the Christmas season. One whiff of the crisp autumn air reminds me that soon I’ll be shopping for a Frazier Fur and pulling out strands of white lights and boxes of ornaments to prepare for my holiday party.

And then I’ll get excited for Winter.

Chautauqua: Final Day

My last full day in Chautauqua. Tomorrow we leave for East Lansing early in the morning, then Sunday morning I catch an 8:30 a.m. train to Chicago. After a long week of learning, relaxing, and reflecting, I’m ready to return home to the real world.

We woke up to another rainy morning. I decided it would serve me better to stay in bed than to walk in the rain to morning meditation. Kathy made us BLUEBERRY PANCAKES again! God bless her! After the kids left for club, Char and I relaxed with our coffee and our journals.

The morning lecture was given by Robert M. Franklin, president of Morehouse College. He told us a list of things he teaches his students: to be well read, well spoken, well traveled, well dressed and well balanced. He closed with an excerpt from a speech that Martin Luther King’s gave the day before he was killed, the “If I had sneezed” closing paragraphs. I counted 30 knitters.

During lunch I went to writing lecture by Clint McCowan called “The Hydrogen Atom of Fiction,” which it turns out is “setting,” which includes not just the geographical location but the general environment of the characters, like religion. I found this interesting because as I continue working on my novel, the characters’ religion, Catholicism, is becoming a bigger part of the story.

I decided to skip the interfaith lecture and instead hung out in the plaza. By the afternoon, the sky cleared and the sun was shining. I read more of the book Char loaned me on understanding men called “It’s a Guy Thing: An Owner’s Manual for Women.” I’m learning a lot about those bastards that I can’t live without.

We went blueberry picking in the afternoon. I picked about three and a half pounds so I’m going to have to find some creative ways to use them: blueberry pancakes (of course), smoothies, cobbler, pie. I’ll be eating blueberries the rest of the summer. Lots of antioxidants.

After blueberry picking, Char and I took the ferry to Bemus Point for dinner at the Italian Fisherman. We ate chicken fingers and Italian nachos (a sky-high pile of chips sprinkled with Asiago cheese, crumbled Italian sausage, tomatoes, banana peppers and green onions) while sitting on the floating dock, watching the sun go down, and drinking Margaritas.

We made it back to Chautauqua just in time for Jason Alexander’s show “Donny Clay Wants to Show You the Way!” He put on a great show. I thought it was amusing how his humor drove a lot of the old folks out of the amphitheater. The best line from the show was unscripted. Donny asked an audience member, “What do you do?......You drill what?......Oh, gas holes.”

We’re back at the apartment now getting ready to go to sleep. I’m sad to leave Chautauqua, but I know I’ll return some day. I didn’t work on my novel as much as I planned, but I wrote a daily blog, journaled every morning, and cleared my mind. There’s so much to experience here. I really wanted to take it all in. There aren’t many places on this planet that you can walk through a safe, gated community and hear the orchestra practicing in one amphitheater, the kids frolicking in the plaza, the opera singers doing scales from the practice huts, a renowned guest speaker giving a lecture in the open Hall of Philosophy, the Chautauqua Belle steamboat blowing its horn in the distance, all while grandma knits a scarf on a nearby bench. It’s a magical place, and I hope to be back soon.

For now, it's time to get back to reality.

Chautauqua: Day 5

For the second day in the row, I was the youngest person at the morning meditation by at least 20 years. It was nice to see so many older people embracing something eastern like meditation. Since I’m here in Chautauqua to experience, to be enlightened, to clear and open my mind, I pushed all judgments to the back. As I sat during meditation, and I felt my mind start to wander as it usually does, I brought myself back to the center with affirmations: I am whole. I am happy. I am intelligent. I am prolific. I am complete. Just to remind myself why I’m here. Bill the moderator (whose name, I found out, is actually Jim) told us to imagine that each breath we take is like a wave from the ocean ebbing and flowing. He said it helps him fall asleep at night, too.

After meditation, I sat on the front porch writing in my journal, sipping coffee, watching the people across the street set up for the peace prayer. I considered not joining them today (again I was the youngest one there) and instead observe them from the porch. But I’m not here to observe. So I closed my journal and joined the prayer circle. I even learned how to say “peace” in sign language.

As I walked back to the apartment, I wondered why it seems that so many people in Chautauqua are old. I realized that it’s because the kids are usually in club all day. People in their 20s are here to study music, dance, theater, etc., so they’re probably in class. Others are taking continuing education classes or maybe sitting on the beach. So the elders, who are probably retired, are just here to relax, meditate, pray. It’s all good.

I wonder if anything I did this week will have an impact on my life once I get back to Chicago. I’ll probably go back to my non-secular lifestyle, watching too much bad American television, searching for my next freelance project, struggling to get the words of my novel on paper. But maybe I’ll take a few minutes each morning to do a little bit of yoga, write in my journal more often, or just sit quietly in an attempt to meditate. I learn something from every experience and take it with me wherever I go. That’s the whole point of life. There’s no such thing as a negative experience.

Leila Nadya Sadat, and international human rights lawyer gave the morning lecture. She was a great speaker, talking mostly about the International Criminal Court and her criticism of the US’s involvement. She made some interesting points, and overall I was impressed. I still counted 24 knitters though.

After lunch there was a Mystic Heart Meditation Seminar that I was interested in attending. On my way there I considered skipping it. Maybe it’s too new age for me. Too spiritual. Maybe I should just go to the plaza and write. But I dragged my butt to the Hall of Missions. The teacher was a man named Subagh Singh Khalsa. He was skinny with an olive complexion and a long grey beard. He wore a turban, and although he was very friendly with a gentle tone, I couldn’t help but notice he looked a little like Osama Bin Laden. He took us through a couple of meditation practices that involved chanting, which made me just a tad uncomfortable, but I went through the exercises, and as my fingertips rested on my thighs, lips pressed together, feet planted on the floor, I remembered a time when I was little, probably around five or six. I would sit in my room and be deep in thought about my own existence. I guess it was a form of meditation. Just without the chanting and deep breathing. But I remember actually being so deep into it that I almost felt something like an out-of-body experience. That’s pretty deep for a small child. I never experienced that feeling when I got older. Still haven’t.

I ran into Subagh later that afternoon while I was grabbing a snack at Food For Thought. I told him I was a writer, and he smiled and said, “You’re going to be a successful writer. I can see it.”

Char and I attended the interfaith lecture given by Mohamed M. Keshavjee, a Muslim lawyer from England who was harassed at the US border in 2003. We weren’t getting much out of his lecture unfortunately, so we left after 20 minutes and walked around the plaza. At 4:30 the kids put on the annual Air Band Competition where each different grade lip-synced to a skit. Char’s daughter Clara did a solo performance of the Electric Slide.

I was going to attend a Unity workshop, but decided I had had enough spirituality for one day.

Tomorrow, last day in Chautauqua:

§ Morning meditation

§ Peace prayer

§ Morning Lecture by Robert Franklin, president of Morehouse College

§ Brown Bag Lunch: The Hydrogen of Fiction. We’ll see what this is about.

§ Interfaith Lecture by Harvey Cox, Hollis Professor of Divinity

§ Jason Alexander (yes, George Costanza) presents “Donny Clay Will Show You the Way!” Really looking forward to this one

Talk to you tomorrow.