I Fasted For Two Days — Here’s What Happened

May 11, 2018

I Fasted For Two Days — Here’s What Happened

May 11, 2018

Fasting is supposed to be really good for you.

Fasting can lead to weight loss, improved athletic performance, a slower aging process, and in some cases, can help fight off cancer.

I’m in favor of all of those things, so we tried a full-blown fast (no food for three days). Here’s how it went.

Thursday, 5:32 pm – Last meal.

The fast begins. The plan, researched meticulously via Tim Ferriss, was to have our last meal now (on Thursday) and then fast on Friday, Saturday, and part of Sunday.

We’ll have dinner tonight and then only consume black coffee, water, and coconut oil drinks until Sunday night.

We feel good about it. It’s going to be a fun, healthy adventure. And, most importantly, we are both 100% in agreement.

Friday, 8:07 am – The start of a new day.

We got up and had some black coffee. Not a big switch from our normal routine. We feel good. This is going to be easier than expected.

Friday, 11:12 am – That was a long three hours. 

Our stomachs are ready for something else. Hmm, what shall we choose? How about some FatWater (a high energy coconut oil drink)! That tastes pretty good! Feeling strong.

Friday, 1:37 pm – Hunger is upon us.

We just had another coffee. Didn’t quite hit the spot the way we wanted it to. Getting kind of dizzy. Time to get outside for a long walk.

Friday, 4:21 pm – Starting to lose it.

It was nice outside but we learned that the beautiful outdoors isn’t quite as breathtaking when you’re dizzy and disoriented. I think it’s time to lie down now.

Friday, 6:15 – Drifting away. 

It turns out that disorientation mixed with hunger is not that great of a combination. One of us is curled up in several blankets on the side of the bed. I am looking blankly at what I think is the TV.

I’m certain now. We’ll never leave this room again.

Friday, 6:15 – “Why did you make me do this?!?”

After a brief nap, it appears it’s time to address the elephant in the room.

She has seen the enemy, and it is me.

This horror show is my idea. We were supposed to get work done this weekend. And now we’re miserable and nothing will be accomplished.

Somewhere in the back of my haze-filled mind, I remember we both agreed to this. I’m probably mistaken.

Friday, 8:40 pm – It’s time to end it.

The misery has won. I am hungry and defeated and detached from reality. And now I’m also angry. I’m tired of being hungry. I’m tired of being blamed for this. I want to punch Tim Ferriss in his healthy, knowledgeable face.

I offer to end the experiment. I’m ready to go get some food. I can’t take it anymore.

No, she says. Let’s just go to bed.

In my mind I only have one thought: This ends tomorrow morning.

We drift off into stomach-rumbling sleep. It’s 9 pm.

Saturday, 7:52 am – A new beginning.

Someone had a good night’s sleep. Hint: it wasn’t me.

I am hungry and practically sprinting to the kitchen so I can end this sadness and have a piece of wheat toast.

She has a different take. She wants to wait. She’s feeling good. She wants to stretch it out to dinner time. I’m shocked and impressed. Maybe we just needed to get through the tough time and then it gets easier.

Or maybe I’m going to eat this piece of wheat toast.

I eat the toast.

But she continues on.

Saturday, 11:22 am – Time for lunch.

The hunger has come calling again. Not for me, of course.

It’s time to eat, she says. It’s been a nice run but some fish tacos would be nice.

No choir has ever agreed more with a preacher.

I set a new land speed record driving to the restaurant. Everything tastes so incredibly good.

I’m glad it’s over

————————————————–

All told, we made it about 40 hours. Not bad.

What did I learn?

We have a weird relationship with food. On one hand, the hunger was not pleasant and I was happy to end the fast. But at the same time, I felt guilty when we ate on Saturday. I felt like I was giving up control in some way.

It’s important to eat in moderation and not be addicted to always being full. Too much food isn’t good for us.

But 40 hours was more than enough for us.

And I don’t regret those fish tacos. Not one bit.

My book is called The Inevitability of Becoming Rich, and you can find that here.