I realize now I should have paid closer attention in math
class. As I prepped to do this Thursday night, I realized I stacked the numbers
against me. Damn it so much. Remember how I said you don’t eat anything the
night before, skip breakfast, then get to an 8 hours feeding period? Well, shit
on me, I almost ended up doing two IFs
without really trying. Here’s how I fucked up.
So I eat the night before, at 10 PM. In order to get the 8
hour feeding period I want so I can gorge at noon on Saturday, on Friday I can
eat from 12PM to 8PM. (I think I paid enough attention to say that is the eight
hours I need to properly fast for the following sixteen hours.) So, not eating
from 10 PM Thursday night to 12PM Friday is fourteen hours fasting. Shit, that’s almost the whole damn IF
fast right there!
Now, I am not under any assumption whatsoever that just by
essentially starving myself for 16 hours that I will suddenly have wash board
abs and a Rock-like chest. It’s just one in method in a seemingly endless
toolbox to get in the best shape of your
life! There are apparently many people who do this a few times a month to a
few times a week. These people are probably the same people you see running in
the snow and ice. These are people you probably don’t want to hang out too much
with if you have body fat over 4% and didn’t run two marathons that morning.
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| "Look at me! I'm as asshole!" |
Helloooo Friday morning! Gooooodbyye Friday breakfast. In
order to properly prepare myself for an IF, I have to limit myself to an eight
hour feeding window beforehand. To properly do this, I have to skip breakfast,
which does not bode well for anyone I come in contact with the first few hours
of my job. Skipping breakfast before the gym isn’t a big deal because I
generally get lost in heavy music and not so heavy weights. But when I work, I
have to deal with these annoyances called people
and these people generally come with their own sets of problems and issues. (I
realize that I want to become a writer so I can work by myself.) Oh, and my job
is fairly physical, so I’ll be burning a lot of calories the first few hours.
One of the theories I have come across in my cursory
research says there is basically no difference between spreading 2000 calories throughout
the day in many meals, or in a shorter period. The take away here is I can
essentially cram in what I would normally eat all day in an eight hour window.
At least I am pretty sure I read that; there were also a lot of big words with
no pictures. I won’t be doing my normal 7-8 grazings, so the meals I do eat can
be bigger.
As I head to my noon feeding, I feel I get brief hunger
pains, but all in all, not too bad. I feel my focus and energy are normal. In a
respect, I find this is easier because I have an active job. I travel to 5-8
accounts per day, and expend a decent amount of energy. I suppose IF is tougher
if you’re chained to a desk and people are walking by with coffee, doughnuts
and that damn Delores with her bagels.
Noon finally comes, and it’s time to crack into my cooler o’
food. I feel the key here is to eat filling foods. So a NutriBullet (with
protein) followed by a protein bar (protein included) plus some granola. The
rest of my work day is filled with bouts of working (boo) followed by bouts of
eating (yay.) I find I don’t have any adverse effects eating after starving for
12 hours. My stomach is fine and I’m not gassy. Well, any gassier than I
usually am.
Come home and chow down on more chicken, green tea and
fruit. Before I go to the gym, a scoop of protein and some grapes. Back from
the gym and a Bullet with more protein. I am pretty sure I am more powder than
man at this point.
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| God, I hope I don't get this shit on my nose. |
I have previously experimented with what I wanted my
precious last meal to be. I hit on something so bulky and filling, it should
get me through the night. I pour some organic Cheerio like cereal in a bowl, 40
grams of chocolate protein and whole milk. It is good, but, GD, after I finish
it I feel full. But this is my last meal, so the experience it not unlike a
death row convict eating his last meal. You know, minus all the capital
offenses stuff.
The rest of the evening, I am actually a productive little
citizen, which is pretty odd for me on a Friday night. I do some wash, brush
out the dog, vacuum (Life hack; always brush out the dog first, then vacuum.) I
start writing, all the while drinking water.
And a funny thing happens after the first two hours……..I’m hungry again. Son. Of. A. Bitch.
This did not happen in ‘rehearsal.’ This is a kick in the nuts. But I am
rapidly approaching bedtime. I continue to drink water because it apparently
blunts hunger. Early, real time feedback tells me that theory is utter
bullshit.
The Next Eight Hours: I won’t lie, I don’t get great sleep.
I actually don’t feel very hungry past those initial few hours. This is good
news. However, I’m up peeing every damn hour because I drank so much damn water.
I’m really starting to think IF is just a scam made up by those water people.
As on most Saturday mornings, the sun fills the room and I
wonder just what the hell I did to myself Friday night. Honestly, I don’t feel
very hungry. I feel a little bit hungry as I’m lying in bed, but it’s the sort
of thing that once you start moving, the sensation pretty much goes away. I feel focused, sharp and not-too-tired; all
foreign sensations to me on a Saturday morning. I fill up the water
bottle-again-and head to the gym, brother.
I weigh myself. And it is kinda odd, I do actually feel
skinnier. But it’s probably just my stomach feeding on my internal organs. Two
pounds lighter, which is no big deal. Two pounds is not enough to say “ZOMG! I
am losing weight!! IF 4ever11”
I’ve trained on an empty stomach many times, so I am not too
worried about that. I can see the finish line (and fried chicken, and pizza, and
mac and cheese and…), all I need to do here is bust it. Two hours here, home,
shower and GORGE. My energy level feels good, my workout is going great, I
don’t drop any heavy objects on my body, and that skinny Asian girl is only
squatting 10 pounds more than me. So far, so good.
As I get closer to the magical 16 hour mark, something
starts to happen. I get hungry. Like, suddenly, violently hungry. How can this
be happening? I am sooo close. It’s probably happening because I am soo close.
I refocus. I will NOT let this deter me. I will use this as further fuel. I
take a deep breath, and continue to lift Paulie, Adrian and my trainer in a
cart. No wait a minute, that’s from Rocky
IV.
Which also just happens to be a
great album to work out to. Fuck you, Drago.
 |
| "Yo Adrian....it feels like you've put on some weight..." |
The hunger is not going away. I
look again at the clock-big mistake. 90 minutes. Time has taken on some sort of
crawling process where it now seems to be going slower when it should be going
faster. I know I need to tough it out a bit more here. If I can push myself
this last half hour at the gym, I can hit my goal. Plus, the bouts of
light-headedness between strenuous sets are fairly enjoyable. Another deep
breath in. And now I run like hell so those crazy Russians can’t follow me.
Nope, no, still Rocky IV. No one told me about these delusions at the
end of IF. I quickly dial up “Baby, Hit Me One More Time” (AKA her good years.)
The drive home, which now totally feels like this:
I do feel hungry, but I don’t feel “gorge-hungry”, more like
normal “NutriBullet” hungry. I find this very odd, but eating my face off has
been my reward all along, and I sure ain’t gonna give that up now.
Not to brag, but I’m now at sixteen and a half hours. Maybe
that extra half hour doesn’t impress you, but try starving yourself for sixteen
hours, and it’s a whole different story.
Cruise into the all you can eat buffet. The staff must know
I mean business, because we’re seated right away. I proceed to put all kinds of
meat (or at least what passes for meat at an AYCE these days) on plate number
one. I also heap on a whole lot of satisfaction.
Plate number one doesn’t hang around very long. Plate two
differs with a lot more in the fried category; chicken, calamari, shrimp whatever
else they can drop in a batter and make even more unhealthy. Plate three is
like a greatest hits of the first two, with a special appearance by pizza. After
the third plate, I am actually feeling full, and disappointed that it only
takes three plates to fill me up after a 16 (and a half) hour fast. But I am
sure with all the fried stuff and sauce and stuff on the meat, I’ve probably
taken in a great deal of calories. I am full enough, that I don’t even feel the
need to hit the dessert table.
So I’m loading up at the dessert table; chocolate chip
cookies, banana pudding (I’ve always imagined that pudding is the only food in
the world that looks exactly like fat. But even that doesn’t stop me) some sort
of graham cracker pie. Man, this is living. I pretty much spend the rest of
Saturday eating what I normally would. Plus some celebratory rum. I go to the
gym in the morning and I am just two pounds heavier. That’s right, all told, my
weight stayed the same. Kinda ironic, dodn’t cha think? ‘Cause yea, I really do
think.
So now that I’ve done it, would I do it again? Maybe. I
don’t know that this will be a regular thing for me. Now that I know I can do it, maybe. But 16 hours is a long
time to go, and temptation is all around us. Like, I couldn’t commit to doing
an IF, then hang out with my buddies and NOT eat and drink.
Guys: “So, uh, Kev, we notice you’re not eating or drinking
tonight. Everything all right, big fella?”
Me: “Well, guys, I’m happy you brought that up! I’m doing
this thing called an intermittent fast…”
Guys: “FAG!”
So, now that I’ve done one IF, I have proclaimed myself an
expert, and am ready to answer all your pressing IF questions.
“Is IF right for me?” Sure. Like I wouldn’t even bother
checking with your doctor. I didn’t and I’m fine.
And if you are going to do it, here’s some advice. Stay away
from clocks. Especially as you get close to that 16 hour mark. Time will
somehow slow to a crawl and your hunger will just get worse. Go do something. Walk
the dog. Walk my dog. Go do something. Just don’t write a blog about it,
because it won’t be funnier than mine.
Sleep as much as you can. I mean, why make it any harder on
yourself? I’ve supposedly had some great times while I’ve been unconscious.
Avoid temptation. Duh. I had to give up a night at the bar,
because I just don’t trust myself. Plan ahead. You might be surprised if you
can skip eating the hours before you go to bed and the hours you’re awake, 16
hours could sneak up on you.
Eat well during that feeding period. Eat as healthy as you
can during that time. Save the shit for the gorge afterward. Really, the toughest times for me were the
first two hours and the last two hours. As long as you can keep your mind and
body busy, it’s somewhat easy.
Now I'm hungry,,,
Now I'm hungry,,,
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