‘I’d gained 10 pounds over the holidays and I was feeling fat, sluggish, and gross,’ recalls diet wellness writer Julie Tilsner. ‘Obviously I needed a good cleanse. But which one? A juice cleanse? The Green Monster cleanse? The banana cleanse? I must come clean here and admit that I’ve never done a cleanse before. I eat pretty healthily, and I like to think all the red wine keeps my system chugging along well enough. I don’t like to follow health trends in any case. Gluten-free, my butt. Yeah, my butt. Bigger than it used to be, by the way. Hence the need for a nice, easy way to lose some weight quickly.’ So, Tilsner turned to the Master Cleanse. Here’s how she got on:
‘The Master Cleanse is a liquid diet that involves drinking nothing but a sweet lemonade-type drink for 10 or more days,’ Tilsner explains. ‘And it promises the world: Detox your body! Lose weight! Feel better! Be happy! You also start every morning with a salt flush, which amounts to chugging 32 ounces of warm, salted water and staying very close to your bathroom. This, according to the dogma, will help detoxify your body. But main billing goes to the “lemonade,” which consists of 10 ounces room-temperature water, 2 tablespoons fresh organic lemon juice, 2 tablespoons organic Grade B maple syrup, and a dash of cayenne pepper. Tastes like sweet lemonade. It’s actually surprisingly filling, too. The syrup provides some protein.’
However, while the proponents of the Master Cleanse sing its praises, critics, including most doctors and nutritionists, argue that the effects are as temporary as they get. According to Dr. David L. Katz, director of the Yale Prevention Centre and founder of the National Exchange for Weight Loss Resistance, ‘It’s a classic quick-fix approach that appeals to the need for immediate gratification. There’s no real lasting value. It’s a gimmick. The idea that we can use a programme to detox our bodies is mostly nonsense made up by people with something to sell.’ But, as an essentially thin woman with just a little extra holiday weight, Tilsner decided a quick fix was all she needed.
‘Despite the experts’ advice, I decided to try the Master Cleanse,’ admits Tilsner. ‘First and foremost, when in Hades does anyone find the time to do a cleanse? Scheduling five days during which you do not eat food or drink alcohol is like trying to nail down a lunch date with President Obama, e.g., next to impossible unless you move mountains. I quickly realised that entire weeks of my life were taken up by various social engagements that revolved around food and/or drink…My next observation: How do you fight temptation when you are surrounded by food? It’s not like I’m a monk on some remote mountaintop, where I might simply be able to lock away my one bowl and one spoon and drink nothing but lemony water for 10 days. I’m a mom with teenagers…In other words, my life is about food and the feeding of people. My pantry is full. My fruit bowl overfloweth. My refrigerator is the hardest-working appliance on my block.’
After two failed attempts, Tilsner made a realisation at attempt number three: ‘I got up, made the kids breakfast, drove my daughter to school, went about my errands, made the lemony drink, and sat down to work. Then I remembered the yoghurt in the fridge. And the blueberries. And the walnuts I’d splurged on because they’re so healthy for you. I mean, superfoods abound. And I thought, This is stupid. I’m starving. All I want is a little dish of yogurt. Is that going to kill me? I also noticed that my increased exercise regimen was starting to work ever so slightly— as indicated by how slightly easier it was to button my pants—and I resolved to toss this Master Cleanse idea on its ear. For now, I’m back on the exercise routine I let go of during the holidays—interspersing six-mile walks with flow yoga. It’s not a quick fix, but science says that combined with healthy eating, I should be able to lose those 10 pounds and keep them off. So much for the Master Cleanse.’