Part of an ongoing series where two staff reporters, who wish to remain anonymous for reasons that will soon become clear, navigate 10 days of purging toxins — and everything else — from their bodies.

We're proud to announce that we've survived eight hours of the Lemonade Diet and almost 24 hours without food.

How was Day 1? Well, calling it miserable and difficult would be an understatement.

Both of us felt exhausted and hungry all day. We were tempted by everything, from the smell of the bread aisle at Ralph's to the hot dog vendors on Vermont Avenue.

A friend who was trying to do the cleanse with us lasted all of four hours ("But," he maintains, "it felt like eight"). He broke his fast by eating, in front of us: an apple, a bowl of soup, bread, three biscuits, a turkey sandwich and a handful of Cheez-Its. Jealous.

We're both doubting whether we can even make it until Wednesday.

But on the bright side, we didn't cheat! And if that saltwater flush was any indication, we certainly eliminated some toxins.

Now, some individual reactions:

ELLEN
I am so hungry, I think my stomach is eating itself.

And I can't even describe how disgusting the saltwater flush was. The water tasted like someone just leaned over the Santa Monica Pier and filled a water bottle with sea water.

It's amazing how fast a quart of saltwater moves through your system: My stomach started churning almost immediately, and the trip to the bathroom 20 minutes later was um, runny. Not fiery, but very runny. And prolonged. I might even say explosive.

To quote Kacie, "Don't make me laugh! I can't hold it in!"

The lemonade was delicious compared to the saltwater, but that isn't saying much. The syrup and lemons are a delicious combination, but the cayenne pepper makes it almost indigestible. Tomorrow morning, I may leave it out entirely just so I can get some calories in my system.

Also, I'm going to try and avoid any place that serves food. Because otherwise I might just keel over and die.

I'm really doubting whether we can do this. Beauty is pain. Beauty is pain.

KACIE
I don’t know how successful Day 1 has been, since we began our quest at 3 p.m., it is now 11 p.m. and I’m going to sleep from exhaustion and lack of will power. If I take another whiff of whatever is cooking in the kitchen, I may throw the rulebook out altogether and give into my hunger cravings.

But as nobody likes a quitter, I will instead swallow my two laxative pills (the tea was impossible to find) and clunk onto the bed, dreading the morning filled with another 32 ounces of salt water. Loving life right now.

But while Day 1 of the cleanse has been less than pleasant — I may or may not have tooted and accidentally soiled my pants — I am eagerly awaiting the day that I crave the lemonade and am able to get my too-tight jeans on with a breeze. Beauty is pain, as they say!
 
We began our day with the salt-water flush, the most nauseating drink I have ever attempted to swallow. Imagine yourself lost at sea, forced to drink the ocean; then put it at room temperature, into a 32-ounce bottle and chug until your gag reflexes act up. Once that moment of vomit subsides, continue drinking. Luckily, I had one thing keeping me through this salt flush, a light at the end of the proverbial tunnel: the lemonade. Yum.
 
While my bowels were making movements from the salt flush, I speedily prepared the mixture of lemon juice, maple syrup, water and cayenne pepper. Though this concoction turned out to be sweeter and tastier than anticipated, my joy quickly turned into disgust, for I could not imagine taking one more sip of that rancid drink. It also didn’t help that my housemates were making homemade biscuits and eating black-eyed peas, the latter of which I don’t even like the taste, but apparently my stomach craved.

Everywhere I turned there was food, on the television, at the grocery store, in a food cart on a neighboring street; it was as if the food demons were stalking me, trying to force me to give up and quit. However, I will continue with this cleanse until the last toxin is flushed out of my system and my bowel movements morph into clear liquid stools. Let’s just hope, for everyone’s sake, that that day is tomorrow.

To read Ellen & Kacie's first post, click here.