Day 2 went by without any major dramas. Ben was meeting up with a friend for dinner and I succumbed, couldn’t resist. But before you protest, it was not a disaster. We chose Japanese so that I could sip on miso soup whilst they gorge on sashimi and ramen. Miso soup was allowed if you were really hungry – I was indeed really hungry, not to mention cold. I did cheat a little though and ate some edamame. But they are super healthy, so I declared myself having passed Day 2 of the detox.

The final big day. I was again amazed to find myself jumping out of bed in the morning full of energy. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I looked into the mirror. Healthy glow? Rosy lips and cheeks? Shinier hair? Maybe I was still sleepy-eyed and couldn’t see properly, but this whole new glowing me kept up all day. Beyond happy. Although I was getting really sick of the juices. I’m going to dream of a big fatty bacon and egg sandwich, and no more lemons and celery for a … long while.

I don’t think I’ve ever gone without food for a day.

One person, three days, 18 bottles of juices. Doable? Absolutely doable.

But no food.

What? No food?

For a couple of minutes, I contemplated this, rolled the thought around in my head and decided that it’s no biggy. After all, it is only three days. If I can’t do this then where’s the self-discipline? Where’s the commitment?

So with full self-confidence, I entered this three-day juice detox.

Ben: you are going to cheat.

Day 1

7:15am: The alarm sounds, I jump out of bed and get ready for work.

7:50am: I make myself a warm lemon water drink to take in the car and drink on the way to work. They recommend this to kick-off your detox every morning.

8:20am: I arrive at work and finish my lemon water.

9am: The first juice of the day is apple, lemon, parsley, silver beet, cos lettuce, cucumber and celery. It looks too green to be tasty, but it’s surprisingly harmless. I give my usual morning coffee a miss and realised that I don’t really miss it that much.

10:30am: Morning tea in the kitchen. I drag myself over to be sociable, fully knowing that the temptation would be great. Hey, it’d be a test of self-discipline. To my dismay, the kitchen table was full of cakes, sausage rolls, chips, biscuits and lollies. I gulp down warm water like there’s no tomorrow and avoid eye-contact. I quickly make my excuses and leave the room. First temptation test passed.

11am: Second juice. Orange, acai berry, cucumber, pineapple, carrot and broccoli

I’m apprehensive about the broccoli but the juice tastes more sour and carrot-y than green, so I declared it passable. Nice, even. Colleagues joke that they have to set up a countdown for me for each juice I have and take a picture of my facial expression after the first sip. Ha ha.

12am: It’s lunch time. The body clock kicks in and I feel a little deprived. So I go for a walk to the shopping centre. Bad idea. I pass lots of cafes, pubs and restaurants along the way. Do not look, do not stop, I tell myself. Retail therapy is great, I even won $2 on a scratchy. I decided to pop into the supermarket for some ingredients to make wontons on the weekend and came out unscathed.

1:10pm: Juice number 3: carrot, mint, cucumber, cos lettuce, silver beet, celery, parsley. This tasted like vegetables. Not very nice at all. Surprisingly, I don’t feel hungry.

3pm: The beetroot, carrot, apple, lemon, spirulina and ginger juice is a-calling. It’s really tasty and kind of sweet. Provides the much-needed afternoon sugar kick. I still don’t feel hungry. What’s wrong with me?

5pm: The cleaner’s going to wonder why I have so many empty juice bottles in the bin. Home time.

5:30pm: Downing juice #5 (lemon juice, water, agave nectar and cayenne pepper) whilst making a lasagne. Ha, biggest mistake I know. I’m making it for the boy and the smell is intoxicating. I manage to get by with tasting a tiny strand of beef mince.

7pm: Dinner time. The super-delicious looking lasagne for Ben and the super-dodgy looking juice # 6 for me (coconut milk, vanilla bean, cinnamon, agave nectar, raw cashews). My juice is, surprisingly, one of the best tasting juices of the day. The raw cashews give me something to chew on, which I miss terribly. Ben goes for seconds, and some left-over chicken wings from last night. I swallow hard and look away.

Ben freaks out and offers me food. I try not to be cranky and lets him know that the more he talks about it the more I am going to cave in.

I don’t cave in, and silently pats myself on the back.

9pm: I’ve taken my shower and has a dull headache, apparently one of the side effects of detoxing. I think it’s nearly bedtime. But not before I watch another episode of Chuck and wait for my hair to dry. This was one of the hardest days of my life.

Two more days to go.