Friday, March 1, 2019

I Kept Expecting It





I was out at a lunch the other day and begged off eating anything.  I was fasting, and hadn't planned to eat till dinner time.  One person is someone I’ve talked about this with in detail.  The other woman had never heard of such-a-thing and, so I took some time to explain what I knew about the logic behind the routine.  My other chum is quite knowledgeable on the topic.  And he mentioned that he has also done a three-day fast as well as a five-day fast with protein shakes.  He did a good job of explaining all this to our other guest.  This routine stimulates a state of “ketosis”, where in the body begins to eat up its own surplus fat deposits and rejuvenate, old, tired white blood cells that fight off disease. 



He has mentioned all this before, and again he suggested that the second day of the three-day fast was not easy.  But by the third day, he had lots of clarity and felt great.  I tried to imagine what that would be like.  The first time I fasted for a whole day, which is chronicled in here from last August, it was excruciating, and I vexed all afternoon until dinner time.  But the next time I tried it was easier.  And now I don’t really even think twice about going twenty-four hours without food.  It’s not the least bit taxing, as long as you’ve got some water and black coffee. 

His depiction stuck with me and I wondered if I could manage a three-day fast.  This idea that the second day would suck, was a bit frightful, if I'm candid.  It must profoundly suck, right?  You wake up after a day without food, how could you think about anything else?  You probably have a headache and spend the day grumpy, bitter, avoiding the kitchen, counting the hours to . . . what?  The end of your second day, with another day to go.  Only then would you have the mystic clarity on the “other-side,” with mere hours remaining. 

I didn’t eat through the evening, woke up and to my pleasant surprise, felt fine.  I considered bailing on my morning gym routine, but instead I biked over, did what I’d normally do and returned without anything feeling different.  Midday I was at meeting over on the west side of town.  They filled the table with pizza and soft drinks.  Tempted?  You betcha.  But I just told them the truth.  The host said, “Oh yeah?  Cool.  My friend did thirty-days.”  "Did he?"  That put me in my place. 



I kept expecting it would get miserable, but instead I had a bit of that clarity my friend had held out for on the third day, straight away on the second.  Interesting how easy this was.  Perhaps this process can be ritualized.



Tuesday 2/19/19

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