Bridget Jones meets AJ Jacobs in Wellmania, an in-depth, laugh-out-loud exploration of the best and worst of the wellness industry. "I laughed so hard, I choked on a doughnut reading this book. I'm so glad Brigid Delaney tried all of this crazy stuff so I never have to." — Jen Mann, New York Times bestselling author of People I Want to Punch in the Throat Cold-pressed juices, “clean” eating, colonic vacations, mindfulness apps, and Paleo: health-care trends and miracle diets seem to be more plentiful each year. But do any of these tactics actually work? What does “wellness” even mean? In Wellmania , longtime journalist Brigid Delaney tackles the good, the bad, and the just-a-little-ridiculous of the wellness industry, using herself as the guinea pig. Starting with a brutal 101-day fast, she leaves behind her thirty-something-year-old lifestyle of late-night parties and all-day hangovers to test the things that are supposed to make us healthy and whole: yoga classes, meditation, CBT, Balinese healing, silent retreats, group psychotherapy, and more. Writing with self-deprecating wit and refreshing honesty, she sorts through the fads and expensive hype to find out what actually works, while asking, What does all this say about us? Is total wellness even possible? And why do you start to smell so bad when you haven’t eaten in seven days? According to comedian Judith Lucy, the result is “a bloody entertaining read that leaves you wondering whether you want to do yoga or get mindlessly drunk and despair at the state of the world.” "I laughed so hard, I choked on a doughnut reading this book. I'm so glad Brigid Delaney tried all of this crazy stuff so I never have to."-- Jen Mann, New York Times bestselling author of People I Want to Punch in the Throat "Illuminating, thought-provoking, and hilariously honest. You'll never look at fasting, yoga, or meditation the same way again." -- Robyn Harding, author of The Party "I laughed so hard, I choked on a doughnut reading this book. I'm so glad Brigid Delaney tried all of this crazy stuff so I never have to."— Jen Mann, New York Times bestselling author of People I Want to Punch in the Throat "Illuminating, thought-provoking, and hilariously honest. You'll never look at fasting, yoga, or meditation the same way again." — Robyn Harding, author of The Party “A rollicking romp and insightful journey through the wellness industrial complex told with with honesty and candor.”— Jo Piazza, author of Fitness Junkie: A Novel "A lucid account of a journey from twenty-first-century hedonist to postmodern ascetic. Delaney takes us inside the $3.4-trillion-dollar-a-year wellness industry in this tale of the triumphs and tribulations of clean living." — Andre Spicer, author of The Wellness Syndrome “Delaney, a lifestyle journalist, takes the reader through her 12-year search for wellness in this amusing memoir.”— Publishers Weekly "Delaney proves to be a witty tour guide across the wellness wonderland, and the book will certainly appeal to readers curious to dip their feet in. Eye-opening and entertainingly voyeuristic."— Kirkus Reviews Brigid Delaney is a senior writer for the Guardian and the author of two previous books in her native Australia. As a travel journalist, she has written about wellness trends from all over the world, and her work has been featured in Vogue , ABC online , CNN , Condé Nast Traveller , and many other outlets From Section I: Clean (on a 101 day fast) Each night I call my parents and ask them to describe what they are cooking for dinner, what they had for lunch and any snacks they might have enjoyed that day. I particularly like hearing about their cocktail hour – aperitivo at 6pm, neighbours over for a drink or two and some cheese, the table set outside, the mist from the Southern Ocean rolling in from the dunes. It seems healthy, civilised, a proper way to live – rather than drinking a mystery sludge three times a day, sleeping for eighteen hours and spitting food into bins. At first my parents are flattered by my interest in the minu¬tiae of their meals. I’ve never listened so keenly to them before, never showed such interest in their nutrition or dietary habits. Such keen, keen interest! As a child, I hid portions of vegetables in my sleeve or spat them out into napkins. But now I long for those childhood stems of steamed broccoli, the mashed pumpkin and potato. On the phone, Mum reels off every ingredient in the salad she has just prepared, Dad describes the different meats he is bar¬becuing. I ring them after dinner too, just to see how their meal worked out – did they enjoy it? What did their guests think? What did their guests bring? What did they prefer – the lamb chop or the rump steak? Then one night they suddenly stop elaborating, sensing something off. They are terse: ‘Yes, dinner was fine, thanks for asking. We had a barbecue.’ There is something wrong with these long, lovely conversations about food, s