A Man Named Dan.
14 years ago, I got into juicing because some dude named “Dan the Man” made juicing videos from his RV and posted them on YouTube.
Before “influencers”, he was just a guy with a juicer, a camera, and shameless conviction.
And a motorhome.
For context, I had just survived a year dominated by unending sickness. From bacterial pneumonia to constantly recurring infections and viruses, I spent a full 52 weeks enduring non-stop immune system attacks. I was on antibiotics at least once a month, every month, for 12 months straight. By week 53, I was a miserable shadow of my former self and desperate for a full-system reboot… which is when early YouTube algorithms led me to juicing.
Dan the Man was – and hopefully still is – a wacky guy. With Jesus-inspired hair and often clad only in cargo shorts and sandals, the Man’s a dude for whom tan lines existed solely on his feet. He was a rare mix of genuinely passionate, outrageous, and authentic, and his unbridled enthusiasm was… infectious.
Thanks to Dan the Man, juicing has since become a ritual for me.
Thanks Dan (:
Yeah, I get juiced.
To be clear, all my labs came back normal throughout that year, so the endless illness wasn’t from more serious underlying health problems. It was from teaching adorable little kids, and kids are notorious germ sponges. All the garlic, oil of oregano, and kimchi in the world couldn’t ward off the mini-plagues that entered my classroom. These germs were shockingly virulent, too – like they were super-charged by human child growth hormones.
I knew the antibiotics were wrecking my gut, my body’s natural defences, and my morale. And I knew I would only truly get better if A: I found a new job, and B: I gave myself a natural, full-system reset. A full-on juice cleanse.
Enter the juice.
By week 54, I was deeply depressed. Truly an all-time low. I moved back in with my amazing mom who, frankly, could not have been happier to have her daughter back home. With AirMiles (back when AirMiles were good), she got me a Breville centrifugal juicer — “le Beast”. Loud, proud, and always ready to party, le Beast could juice army boots.
My first juice was made of apples, carrots, bell pepper, ginger, and celery, and it was delicious. I was immediately hooked. The contained chaos of dropping whole apples and carrots down the wide-mouth chute was a huge kick, and the physical pep from those vitamins, minerals, and fruit sugars hitting my bloodstream was intoxicating (it still is).
And my health recovered.
The vegetables talk to me?
I know I know. Stay with me.
After 14 years of practicing something, you develop an intuition for it. With juicing, I began to intuitively know which combinations just jive together. Not only with flavour, but with my very state of being in that moment.
For example, when I’m feeling down, I instinctively make juice with a darker palette – think spinach, beets, blackberries, blueberries, plums, cucumber… a deep and moody palette creating an output that’s almost black in colour. But even in my darkest days, there has to be one dramatic splash of brightness, like orange carrot, red strawberry, a nice yellow bell pepper.
Evidence is still gathering for a juice’s aesthetic mood-match optimizing its potency. However, I fully believe it does.
luscious darkness of my tortured soul ingredients
+
bell pepper and spinach tag team
____________
= real life magic
Prep work = spell casting.
I use a masticating juicer these days, so most of the produce gets roughly chopped before going in the juicer.
Standing at the cutting board, focusing on the blade, I let my distractions become airborne as I prep the offerings.
When you think about it, what’s happening is intention is being conjured while an elixir is being attentively crafted, transmuting something difficult and abstract into something thinkable and drinkable.
Literally a potion.
Drink me.
The rush from the first few sips is your body recognizing an ancient friendship, I think. The freshly made, unprocessed, lovingly curated potion meets you at the cellular level. It is undeniably distinct (ie. better) from anything that comes off the shelf, pre-bottled.
You see, it’s about both the produce and the production. Repeated studies have shown that fresh fruits and veggies are undeniably excellent for your meat suit. But do we really need to hunt for research when the proof is in the pepper?
Just like lifting weights and dollar cost average investing, juicing is a practice that compounds.
Whatever life’s brought you, the knife’s got you. Start chopping.