So I’ve reached the final stretch of my week of horror.

*shakes uncontrollably and whispers*

The horror…  The horror…

Day 6:

I awake tired.  Again.  I don’t understand why I can’t sleep.  I would have thought that without stimulants, such as caffeine, I’d be sleeping like a baby.  Well I guess I technically have been sleeping like a baby – I have been waking up crying every few hours…

The good news is, the hard work has been done. And while I have not enjoyed the Green Vegetable Detox, I’m actually over the hump, and feel confident of bringing it home.

The bad news is, the unshakable nausea, the headaches, and the obtuse dreams.

My body and mind just feel out of sorts, not to mention my bowels.  Oops, looks like I did mention them.  Since I’m on the topic, I have a feeling the detox is working.  Judging by the recent experiences I’ve had “dropping the kids at the pool”, I am fairly certain the poisons are leaving the building.  In droves.

As a result though, I’m just plain sluggish.  It is hard to get motivated to prepare a meal, as nothing in my fridge (of an appropriate colour) is particularly appealing to me right now.  I hope I haven’t damaged green vegetables forever?

Meal #16:  I eat the remaining zucchini and broccoli.  Yup, that’s it.  Time to go to the shops one last time.

While scratching about for some variety, I notice the grocer has edamame, so I pick some up on a whim, along with your old pals, broccoli and snow peas (Brussels sprouts are still on the outer).  The girl at the checkout is the same one that has served me throughout the week, and finally she has the courage to ask if I was aware that everything I’ve bought is green.  I tell her it’s because I’m colour blind.  She accepts that with a knowing nod.

Meal #17:  I have a steaming bowl of edamame.  I forgot how much I freakin’ love edamame!  Where have you been all my week, you little soy bastard?!  Edamame may actually see me through.

I am so buoyant from my successful lunch that I trundle out for some fresh air.  It is while I am out and about, with the wind in my hair and a song in my heart, that I receive the call from my “trainer”.  I had forgotten about this.  Once detox ends, the physical training is to commence. Sadly, Gaz and exercise go together about as well as baths and toasters.

It is then he drops a further bombshell.  I am supposed to do this 7-day detox, every 2 months!  Is he mental?  I’ll bet he doesn’t do it every two fucking months.  Practice what you preach, lycra boy.  No wonder everyone, aside from personal trainers, hates personal trainers.

So thanks trainer dude – you’re a major buzz kill.

Meal #18:  I splash out with a plate of broccoli and snow peas AND a side plate of edamame.  I actually feel full afterwards, so it feels like a small win.

Surprise, surprise, I sleep restlessly.  I dreamt that I’d finished the detox, and went out with friends to celebrate, and no matter where we went, all any restaurant had on its menu was green fucking vegetables.  I awoke in a cold sweat.

Day 7:

I’ve made it!  Last freakin’ day.  3pm is my nominal end time, so just two meals to go!

Regardless of what Nautilus Nigel says, I am not doing this ever again.

Meal #19:  Edamame, edamame, edamame.  They are just the most filling little power nuggets of green.  I improvise a little ditty while preparing them.

Edamame, you’re so yummy, boiling away beside me,

Edamame, in my tummy, I want you inside me…

Safe to say isolation, and a high fibre diet, are making me just a little weird.

Meal #20:  The last supper.  I decide to cook up anything left in my fridge that is green.  I don’t finish it, but I don’t care, and take great delight in throwing the leftovers in the trash.  It was only going to “waste” anyway.

3pm can’t come soon enough, so I distract myself by heading to the wine cellar to pick out something red in order to celebrate (and for a change of colour).  We settle on a nice 1990 Barolo, and give it the rest of the afternoon to breathe, while I do the same.

I jump on the scales for a final weigh in.  All in all I have lost 4kg. I imagine half of that was water, and the other half my will to live, but it is still a very rewarding thing to see the scales going down.

The strange thing is, while I thought that I would be sitting down to a nice steak to end the week, I actually don’t crave it.  I would have had some fava beans and a nice Chianti, but for some reason I’m off the greens…

What I do have a hankering for, is blue cheese and crusty bread.  Coincidentally, they go swimmingly with red wine, so I nip down to the delicatessen to select a generous wedge of Roquefort and a sourdough batard.

I’ve been waking up nauseous, with a sore head all week.  Tomorrow, I intend to do the same…