Continuing the Three-Day Fast

So far, I’d found the first 24 hours of fasting much easier than expected. The next few hours were going to be much tougher, although I didn’t know that yet.

As I mentioned in the previous article, on The Three-Day Fast, I’d already begun to feel some of the advantages linked with disrupting the daily grind with something as radical as not eating. I mentioned that these advantages seemed so far more to do with emotional and psychological effects of slowing things down, disrupting established routines and breaking down long-standing assumptions about what my body needs and wants.

I was expecting the more physical benefits to kick in about now.

Instead, everything went the other way.

Headaches and Lethargy

By noon, I had begun a low-grade headache. It was coupled with a deep sense of lethargy.

I managed to stay active, but everything seemed to require that I dig deep for the energy and motivation to get anything done. The situation was unique and original enough that I was able to find reserves of strength to move forward with unboxing and setting up my new home. Nevertheless, I was putting up with growing discomfort, both because of the pain in my head and a relentless decrease in energy.

By 4:30pm I was really struggling. No amount of water consumption seemed to affect my headache and I was giving each new box or piece of furniture a baleful stare as I anticipated dragging it across my apartment.

I’d been hoping that dieting would help with some lower back pain, mostly due to overdoing things during the move, but that was just getting worse too.

With little else to do but work and think, it was hard not to focus on these discomforts as they grew and took up more and more of my attention.

By 9pm, the headache was all I could think about, and by 9:30pm I was in bed considering passing out for the night. I was tired, my head hurt and my mood was declining fast.

I Facetimed at 9:45pm with my wife and daughters, tried to look normal while the light from the iPhone stabbed at my eyes, and then gratefully passed out in the dark as soon as we had finished talking.

Withdrawal Theory

What happened?

My body ran out of juice to power it. That’s my theory, because that’s exactly how it felt. My energy levels dropped very low, my motivation all but disappeared and my brain and body complained bitterly about the situation.

I think that, despite my best efforts at getting rid of caffeine and sugar addiction prior to this exercise, I didn’t go far enough.

I have a suspicion that caffeine and sugar are only two things that I consume so regularly that my body has come to depend on them. The absence of food was a shock to the system, and shocks to the system cause feedback like I experienced – pain, fatigue, depressed mood.

I knew this was a consequence of the diet, but the headache was bad enough for a couple of hours that I very nearly broke the fast there and then. As I lay in bed with my heart pounding in my chest and a vice squeezing the sides of my head, I very nearly quit.

Sleep was the right remedy. I had to just let me body cope with the transition to stored fuel, because the next morning I had a …

Miraculous Recovery

I woke up feeling excellent. The contrast between the night before and the morning after was astounding.

I’d slept very well. I woke up at 6am, felt very well rested (which never happens to me), had a nice level of energy and I was in an excellent mood.

Thanks to the time difference, I was able to call my wife and compensate somewhat for the monosyllabic troll I’d been the night before.

I knew that today I’d have to finish the fast early – at lunchtime – because I had a dinner that evening. But given how I now felt, I was almost upset at the idea of stopping.

Finally I had reached some sort of equilibrium. I felt as though I’d passed through the pain barrier, and on the other side I could start to really reap the benefits of fasting, but already the end was in sight.

No wonder people do 6-day fasts, I thought. All the pain is in the first 2 days.

Preparing The Ending

A great deal of the reading I’d done was around how to end a fast.

Fasting is depriving your body of fuel so it exercises other metabolic functions that it doesn’t – in this world of unhealthy abundance – often have to rely on any more.

Ending a fast is providing the first bit of fuel to restart that engine. To my mind, the nature of that fuel is a way of communicating with your body and letting it know how you mean to go on. If you drown it in sugars, your fast may well end up doing you more harm than good when all is said and done.

So I went shopping.

I bought the best, healthiest organic chicken broth I could find (The Grocer on Elgin, in case you were wondering), then I stocked up on carrots and celery and broke out the juicer.

The rest of the morning was spent walking around the neighborhood, smelling the roses (so to speak).

Come early afternoon, I gently warmed the chicken broth and laid a single place at the table.

Break Fast

It was the best chicken broth I’ve ever had in my life.

After two days of abstinence, my taste buds had reset to factory settings. As we eat every more tasty food, our taste buds attenuate their sensitivity and subtle flavors are lost in the noise. Now I could taste everything again.

The broth was exploding with flavor. The quinoa almost seemed to pop as I ate it. The vegetables each had a consistency and flavor of their own and the entire thing was absolutely delicious.

That said, a single bowl of broth was enough. I felt full, satiated and almost couldn’t imagine eating any more.

Clearly my appetite had reset also.

I nevertheless juiced the carrots and celery and sipped on that for a while.

Immediately after the meal, I began to feel a little lethargic as the blood rushed to aid in digestion and everything else slowed down.

Thirty minutes later, however, my energy levels were rising again, and I started working in the apartment again. I wasn’t overexcited or hyperactive, but I felt as though I could sustain a continued effort for a very long time. If I hadn’t had a dinner that night, I would probably have worked non-stop until around midnight.

Anecdotal Evidence

When I arrived at the restaurant, I was still feeling very zen from the entire experience, and a little sad that I’d not been able to finish the full three days.

I bumped into a couple of the guests whom I already knew outside the venue. They both asked me if I’d been on holiday in the sun, since I looked so well.

No… no sunshine… just packing, unpacking and not eating, I told them.

We entered the restaurant and found a small group of friends at the bar. There again a person who knows me remarked on how well I looked. I don’t typically look unwell, but this is not a compliment I often receive.

Finally, our hosts made a point of introducing everyone, and when they came to me, there was the compliment again. How well I looked, how healthy, as though I had a “glow”.

My energy levels throughout the dinner were good, and I didn’t have a problem I almost always have in crowded places – where I can’t filter out the ambient noise or avoid overhearing fragments of other conversations – my brain for once managed this fine, which made the entire dinner much more enjoyable for me.

I got home at 1am (Uber completely let me down) and went to bed, super happy about my day, and resolving that I would have to try fasting once more when I had the chance. Next time I’ll be better prepared and I’ll do it for the full three days. Before then, I’m going to have a long, hard look at intermittent fasting to see if it can provide anything close to the same benefits.