Day 1

For the past 3 years, I've had many false starts on my return to raw veganism. I'd make grand declarations, buy a bunch of oranges, start a blog, and invite all my friends to read along as I made my triumphant return to health.

Then I'd quit.

A stressful workday, a lonely night, catching myself at an unflattering angle in the mirror in yoga class - I've allowed these things and more to convince me that it would be easier to give up.  Of course, I was right. Throwing in the towel is incredibly easy. And not just when it comes to diet and exercise. Most of us find avoiding or giving up on our goals and dreams far more desirable than pushing against everything and everyone that tells us we're not smart/educated/tall/thin/lucky/pretty/rich/whatever enough to succeed.

Why?

In my case, I associate more pain with being the person I was before than the one I am now. She was driven, ambitious, smart, healthy, attractive - but couldn't tell when she was being taken advantage of.  For the past 3+ years, I've felt extreme shame for having become a single mother at age 33.  I often replay the moment I met my son's father in my mind, making my mental self strong enough to see through the lies that would come from that irresistible yet utterly useless mouth, and watch as she sashays her sexy little ass away from him. Then I blink back to my reality: Black, single mother of a son, working to be able to pay someone else to raise and educate my child (read: FAILURE).  Then I order a large pizza or eat a whole box of Apple Jacks to sweeten or fill the horrible, empty bitterness of self-hatred.

Obviously, I have no interest in being or becoming merely another cute 'before and after' picture or just a raw success blog. This is very personal and, in every way, about choosing Life.

What, an apple can make me get a better job? 

Durian can lighten the load of single parenthood? 

You'd be surprised.

When I was raw, the simplest difference was that I had energy. I think we use the word so much that its presence is undervalued. Having energy can make the difference between being able to get up and do a sun salute versus rolling over and ordering General Tso's. Energy changes how you view your life:  it's either something you can stand up and face, or an ever-present beast that you avoid at all costs.  Being fueled by an apple or durian instead of cheese and dough are very different things that produce disparate, life-altering results.

Right now, some 100 lbs later, it hurts to walk. I can't run around the playground with my son, or chase him when he darts off in a store. I have a massive tumor in my womb. My moods are at the whim of improper nutrition and poor sleep, and my son's home life is unpredictable as a result.

Not returning to raw isn't an option.

For the first part of the journey, I'll be juice feasting.  At no point, for the next several weeks, will I be able to use the acts of chewing and swallowing to provide physical or emotional nourishment. I'm hoping this will help break the association I have with eating and gratification.  I'll also be doing at least an hour of yoga each day, to both recondition my body and help minimize the effect and duration of the inevitable detoxification symptoms I'll experience.

In addition to having examined and tested by my primary care physician before I began,  I'll be consulting with a raw vegan Naturopath, Nathan Batalion, along the way. And since it would be silly to try to reinvent the wheel, I'll be reading and utilizing the information of the many Raw Gurus who have done the research, and know how to build a sustainable, raw lifestyle. I think I'll start here.

So here I am. At the starting line again. The crowd's long since dispersed, unwilling to cheer on a runner who gets them riled up, then sits down on the track when it's time to put in work.

But I'm here.

And I'm more than enough.