I wrote about what it was like fasting while I was doing it, and given a few days (and some over-indulgence), I wanted to share what it feels like to look back on the fast, and how I feel about it now that I have some context and some distance.
Tangible vs Intangible Effects
As I explained in my previous two articles on the three-day fast, I’m not talking here from a scientific or biohacking perspective. I’ll do that in another article that’s based on a broader set of knowledge and experience than just my own.
There are lots of benefits, claimed and proven, of extended fasting. Without measuring far more than I did, and without a larger sample size than just me, there’s no substantiating or refuting any of those claims.
I’m writing here about the direct benefits I felt while I was fasting, and immediately after. I’m also discussing what it felt like to me, to not eat for almost three days. The experience will be both similar and different for you. This is not a roadmap, it’s a record of my journey to inform your decision to try (or not) the same thing.
As such, many of the benefits I record here are not medical, but rather mental benefits. Some are direct results of the lack of food, others are indirect consequences of not eating, such as having to slow down and rest more and the altered perspective you get when you cut out something so central to our way of life.
Not Eating – How Hard It Is?
Hard.
I don’t want to sugarcoat it, nor do I want to make it sound like it’s impossible. Going for a long walk in mountainous terrain is hard. Concentrating on something you are not interested in for days at a time is hard. Not eating for three days is also hard.
It’s also easy, in the sense that it’s simple rather than complex. It’s one decision, maintained for three days.
Don’t eat.
It’s not even an active decision – you’re not deciding to do something, you’re deciding to not do something. So at its most basic level, it’s within everyone’s reach to do a three-day fast (certain medical conditions notwithstanding, speak to your doctor, etc, etc).
The difficulty comes in phases. The first missed meal is the moment of maximum hunger. After that the sensation either attenuates, or you get used to it – I’m not sure which of the two effects is the strongest.
The second day is the most unpleasant, especially near the end, as your body begins to crave the various things it’s been addicted to for so long – sugars, caffeine, etc.
The low-grade desire to eat never really left me (although I’m told that almost disappears after the third day), but it became much more manageable after the second day.
The lowest point for me was the second evening, about 30 hours into the fast, when my energy levels were at their lowest, I had a splitting headache and I lay in bed feeling my heart beat in my chest as my body got through what felt like some kind of withdrawal.
The highest point was the morning after, when I awoke feeling lighter, cleaner, as though something disgusting had been purged from my body. But that’s a metaphor.
Is a Fast Like A Cleanse?
While it may be true that we get rid of toxins when we do a “cleanse” or a fast, I don’t like the language and pseudoscience associated with this and prefer to keep it simple.
By not consuming anything, I allowed my body’s natural processes to continue eliminating toxins without adding to them for a while. I don’t personally believe that by eating something specific (or by not eating) we accelerate the rate at which out body eliminates toxins. We just give it the breathing space to get a little head start on the poisons we regularly ingest.
That said, the body is a lot like a water-treatment plant. We consume things that power chemical reactions in the body. These reactions have by-products which must be eliminated, and a large proportion of our anatomy is dedicated to the elimination of those toxins. If you stop or slow the creation of toxins, you give your body the chance to catch up, lowering the amount of toxins left in the body.
Since these chemicals have an effect on our perceived well-being, the benefits are tangible. In my experience, I slept better, felt more clear-headed, less driven by impulses (such as the need to eat). I felt less anxious, less rushed and less stressed.
A lot of this may be due to the elimination of various chemicals which have a negative effect on our bodies and our mental state. But a lot of it is also due to the effect of this kind of discipline on our minds, independent of body chemistry.
Is A Fast Like A Meditative Retreat?
Yes, to a certain extent.
Fasting is often associated with religion or spirituality. Having fasted for almost three days I can begin to understand why.
It puts you in a different state of mind. It’s quite hard to describe. My experience of it is best described as a contemplative state of mind. Things affected me much less emotionally, and I felt as though I was able to observe things with more curiosity than usual.
It was a very enjoyable feeling. Much more balanced, much less driven in the sense that living in a city makes everything feel frenetic and urgent all the time.
It was as though I was in my own bubble of quiet contemplation, as the world around me rushed about pointlessly.
I would argue that I probably got as much out of this altered mental state as I did from the physiological effects of fasting.
I’m sure the two are linked, and that the absence of calories changes the chemistry of the brain, but I think there’s also more to it than that.
As I mentioned in my last article on the three-day fast, eating is an omnipresent habit. A routine that, just like sleep, dominates the rhythm of our lives. Food is everywhere in our environment. On a typical commercial street, a huge proportion of the shops are selling either prepared food or groceries.
So when you suddenly decide to ignore both the mean routine and all the food commerce in your environment, you’re cutting out something that takes up an enormous amount of your attention, time and awareness.
It’s no surprise that this changes – fundamentally – the way you experience your environment, and your state of mind.
When I stopped fasting, this is what I missed the most.
Would I Do It Again?
Yes.
It’s not something I could do without the same degree of planning and opportunity as the first time. I was fortunate to have a few days where I was alone at home, over a long weekend, when there were few demands on my time that I couldn’t adapt to suit my energy levels.
That said, based on my first experience, I would go about it a little differently the next time.
Things I Would Do Again
Set Time Aside
I set aside the days for the fast and knew I would be able to adapt to the needs of the fast because nobody was depending on me for anything during that period. It’s hard to predict how your body and energy levels will react. I don’t want to end up in a situation where I have to eat something because something urgent came up at a point where my energy levels were at zero.
Drink Lots Of Water
I drank a ton of water (almost 5 liters the first day). This helped me manage some of the sensations of hunger, as well as to stay hydrated. I think part of what made me feel so ill was my body trying to get rid of some of the poisons I’ve stored in my fat reserves over time. It takes fluids to help your kidneys process all of that.
Things I’d Change, or Do Better
Detox First, Fast After
There are two really obvious addictions that I have which resulted in some pretty serious withdrawal symptoms. I knew about these and tried to manage them but should have done a better job.
My caffeine addiction was reasonably well managed – I dropped to one coffee per day for the 10 days (roughly) before fasting. Next time I’ll go to zero at least 3 days before fasting, so I can be sure there’s no caffeine withdrawal contributing to the day two headaches that I found so painful.
I didn’t manage my sugar addiction very well at all, especially given the carb-loaded meal I had just before I started the fast. Next time I’ll probably go onto a ketogenic diet at least 4 days before starting the fast.
The combination of the two exercises above will hopefully reduce or eliminate the debilitating headaches I had on the second evening.
Plan More Stuff
I don’t want to plan every hour of the day, because the quasi-boredom of the fast was part of the benefit, but I need activities or I’ll go crazy.
Next time I’ll plan some light exercise (swimming, some yoga, etc) and I’ll set myself a target like reading at least novel. There were times when I was struggling for something to do, and that’s when you start looking at the kitchen and wondering why you have all that cooking equipment if you’re not going to use it.
Also, I think that during the latter stages of a three-day fast, my body will be quite receptive to the benefits of certain types of exercise, such as stretching (yoga) or some gentle swimming.
I might also plan an osteopath visit for the second half of the fast. I think the benefits would be accentuated.
Make It The Beginning Of Something
Next time, the fast will be the starting point for a longer-term dietary adjustment. The way I feel during and immediately after the diet are exactly the motivation I need to effect a more permanent change, and I feel like this was a missed opportunity this time around.
Conclusion
I think the extended fast was very beneficial, but I dropped back into old habits quickly. There were some things I could have done to either make things easier on myself, or enhance the benefits of the exercise as a whole.
The fast made me aware of certain facets of my normal mental state that are not optimal. I found myself easier to live with at the end of the diet (and immediately after it than I usually do. I wrestled less with my state of mind, experienced less frustration and more positive energy.
There’s a lot to be said for fasting. I’m still at the beginning of my understanding of what it can bring me. So far the verdict is very positive, but I’m not blind to the fact that food is also one of my great pleasures in life, so a balance is needed, as always.
If It Works On Me... 