Who knew you could drink celery, kale, and carrots? Probably the same person who swears this is a fun and delicious drink. No, I was not ignorant about juicing vegetables and fruits, as my dearly departed father-in-law Willard Reneau turned his entire garden into liquid for years. In fact, he drank so many carrots that he turned orange.
Recently my bride and I (read my bride) decided we would begin getting a boost of vitamins and minerals by drinking a glass (or more) of yummy green liquid each morning that frankly tastes like a combination of rabbit food, water, and rabbit food.
She giggles as she drinks it, as if she can feel the tiny fingers of health rushing all over her, while my own experience is what I like to call, well… repugnance. Now over my 40+ years I have drank a lot of things and some of them have been of the adult beverage kind with varying results to my palate. In fact, I remember the first time I drank straight bourbon. It was so disgusting; I couldn’t imagine who initially thought it was something a human should taste.
Five minutes later, I understood. I’m still waiting for this revelation with the rabbit food.
The jury is still out on the green elixir. Instead of feeling wonderfully healthy, I am find I am rushing for the throne. Well, not literally rushing, but you get the idea. All those vegetables and fruits must travel through my innards at something like 60 miles an hour or faster and they are probably scrubbing out toxins and build-up poisons… at least that is what I’ve been told by my expert.
My bride, who recently lured me into the workout place named after the hours of the clock, explained that the benefits of combining juice and gym is something not even a rocket surgeon could argue over. “It’s going to turn you into a powerhouse of manliness!” she exclaimed as I watched her drain the semi-thick green glass of pulpy goo. “Yum!”
“You think gym and juice will do the trick?” I asked innocently as I looked at my gut hanging over my belt and the container of chunky green sustenance on the counter.
“You better believe it,” she said and poured another glass – the one I was supposed to enjoy.
“It looks disgusting,” I said and eyed it suspiciously.
“Oh, but the benefits of juicing make it taste wonderful and just imagine what effect it will have at the gym!” Her eyes were dancing about with an obvious sparkle. Now to add insult to nutritious injury she has also advised me that I need to stop eating DJ’s boudin every morning and switch over to oat meal. Oat meal for the love of all that is natural!
Now, as a 61 year old man, I realize to some I should turn in my Speedos and tenni-hoppers for baggy khaki pants, suspenders, and brogans and maybe I should, but oatmeal over boudin is pert-near crossing the line in my book. Sure, I’ll go to the gym and all, but these major steps need to be eased into, like the juice.
“Can I drink maybe just a tablespoon of juice and after a couple of weeks move up to a quarter of a cup?” The look on her face pretty much told me I was going to drink the wonderful concoction.
So off to the gym we go and surprise of surprises, there are a lot of plus 40 people like me there. One fellow in particular gets on one of those contraptions that makes you look like a combination of running and hopping like a kangaroo and stays on it for an hour. The first time I observed him, he was covered in sweat and just kept going and going, so I gave it a try.
It’s not near as effortless as it appeared and I went back to the treadmill. Did you know that if you get on a treadmill and walk at 4 miles per hour for one hour, that when you stop it and step off it feels like you are still walking- if you keep from falling flat on your face that is. Yea, I learned that one real fast. Now I slow it down and walk for about five minutes before I get off.
I was talking to my bride’s trainer, Anisha P. and she told me one fellow went off the back end of a treadmill the other day and like to have done a flip. “It’s one of the things we watch for,” she said straight-faced. One of the things we watch for??? Good grief, talk about embarrassing! To me it wouldn’t matter if I broke my leg, all I would be thinking about is who saw me do the flip and then there’s the unexpected results of drinking that juice and the speed at which it moves through my body. Yikes! Double embarrassment!