Tag: fasting

Fast follow-up

October 28, 2024

Dear Leland and Everett,

As I approach a month since my fast ended, I thought it might be worth a quick note describing what has happened since.

First, my doctor visit. My doctor admitted to being a little nervous when he heard the duration of my fast. When he saw me he intimated with some surprise that I looked good and seemed well. We did some bloodwork, which came back normal or close to normal. He tested blood count, iron, B12, electrolytes, kidney and liver function: all came back normal and in range for prior tests. Glucose and HbA1c were normal and lower than prior tests, though perhaps not as low as I might have expected for two weeks after a fast. I had some protein levels that were lower than the target range, but the doctor thought those would improve with a normal diet. I asked the doctor to test for testosterone; interestingly, it increased by 175 ng/dL vs my prior test a year and a half ago. I had stopped taking my statins during the fast, and my lipid profile improved relative to prior to taking statins, but not where they had been while I took statins; thus, I have resumed my meds. Overall, the fast appears to have had limited negative impact, and perhaps had some mildly positive impact on my health (which is what I would have expected).

I’ve regained most of the muscle I lost, though not all. I’ve gained back a few (about 5) pounds of fat from the end of the fast. I sense that my mobility has improved, though that’s a little hard to measure. Some of the increased mobility likely comes from a smaller tummy impeding fewer movements. But some of the increased mobility seems to be in areas unimpacted by my gut; I don’t know why that would be, but want to record the observation nonetheless. In much the same way I thoroughly enjoyed food, particularly the first few days after the fast ended, I am finding that I thoroughly enjoy exercise. I enjoy moving my body, and even enjoy the feeling of soreness the day (or more) afterward.

Not everything has been positive. Since the end of the fast I’ve been somewhat overwhelmed by mental chatter. During the fast I noticed that the mental chatter, particularly related to food, consumed much of my attention. I also noticed that I was able to reign in the mental chatter as the fast progressed. By the end, my mind was pretty quiet. After the fast ended, the mental chatter returned with something of a vengeance. Perhaps this makes intuitive sense: my ego did not enjoy being so vulnerable, and really wants to reassert itself as I return back to a “normal” lifestyle. My minister, when I shared the finding that I’d been overwhelmed by mental noise, offered an interesting anecdote: there are two passages related to Jesus’ time in the wilderness; one passage intimates that Satan tempts Jesus while he’s in the desert fasting, while the other passage intimates Satan tempts Jesus after he returns from he wilderness. I’ve since read both passages and do not see the distinction my minister offered, though I will note that it’s at least somewhat ambiguous as to when Jesus faces the temptation. The significance, I think, is that it’s at least possible that my experience of fighting “chatter”, “noise”, or “temptation” after the fast ended is less unusual than I might assume.

Eating and exercise have been a particular challenge. For one thing, I wanted to recover my lost muscle (and strength) as quickly as possible. For another, I wanted to take advantage of the lost weight, and perhaps continue losing weight. And finally, I wanted to enjoy food again, especially the social aspect of sharing meals with loved ones. While these goals are not completely opposed to one another, they are not entirely consistent. And so I have found myself bouncing between consuming more protein (including meat) than before in an effort to gain muscle and enjoying more “cheat” meals than normal. More importantly, I found myself obsessing over my eating and workout plan, before realizing that I was missing a large learning from the fast itself. One of the key takeaways from the fast was feeling connected with my body (through discomfort, and a willingness to experience the discomfort); suddenly I was trying to micromanage my food intake to achieve an objective, and losing the connection with my body. I decided a couple weeks ago to obsess less over any specific eating plan and try to be more mindful. Since then, sadly, my eating habits have not improved. I’m becoming more aware when I eat compulsively, and observing opportunities to make small but presumably important changes. I’m hopeful and optimistic that, with intention, those observations will slowly turn into actions and changed behavior. We shall see.

I wish I had bigger news to share. I wish I had more profound results, and more concrete lessons and learnings. Truthfully though, I sense I’ve gotten from this experience what I was meant to, and now it is up to me to integrate those learnings into my life and actions. I’ll admit to struggling with the integration, but am committed to the effort. Wish me luck.

I love you,

Dad

Fast

September 30, 2024

Dear Leland and Everett,

I started a fast in mid-August. Actually, it was the Monday after we returned from our trip to Las Vegas. I finished this past Friday, which puts the duration of the fast at 40 days. I’m writing to capture some of my real-time thoughts and observations, because this has certainly been an interesting experience.

First, let’s start by defining the fast: for the last 40 days, I have primarily consumed water, electrolytes, and a periodic multivitamin. I cut out coffee the second week, but periodically (as in 1-2x/wk) consumed a coffee replacement drink composed various mushrooms and some spices like ginger, cinnamon, and turmeric; I’ll admit to putting a very small amount of coconut creamer in that drink (I believe less than 20 calories worth). I took communion at church once. But nothing else. Some doctors currently believe that consuming <500 calories per day generate all the benefits of a fast, and so very-low-calorie fasts are somewhat in fashion. I mean not to criticize those (indeed, I have done several 2-10 day fasts of this nature), only to clarify that this fast was about as close to water-only has possible.

The most obvious question you might ask would be “why?”. In truth, I don’t have a great answer. I originally wanted to fast through this past Lent. Things just didn’t work out: we were traveling in Taiwan for the first part of Lent, and when we returned I got sick. So I fasted for a few days, but felt somehow incomplete. And while I never gave the extended fast much serious thought, it lingered as some sort of unfinished business. If I’m being completely honest, I just felt a strange tug and knew this was something I needed to do. I’ve listened to that voice a few times over the last few years, and am finding that it appears to lead me in good directions. I’m cultivating my capacity to hear that voice and respond, and this fast is a good example.

Of course, there are lots of good reasons to fast. Fasting promotes autophagy, or the body’s system of cleaning out damaged cells. Perhaps related, fasting reduces one’s risk of cancer (I think of it as starving the cancer cells, though I’m sure I’m oversimplifying the science). Fasting decreases the risk of neurodegenerative disorders like Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s. Fasting promotes healthy hormone balance and reduces inflammation. In short, fasting gives one’s body a chance to purge the accumulation of bad stuff that aggregates over time. Obviously, one not need fast for 40 days to achieve those benefits, and I wasn’t really doing it for any of the stated benefits, though I will admit that a sense of release seemed to coincide with the idea of the fast.

There’s also the obvious effect of weight loss, which is beneficial if one is severely overweight (as I was). Coincidentally, the night before I started fasting, Everett took both hands, grabbed as much fat around my belly as he could, and said, “Dad, you’re fat”. It wasn’t the nicest thing he’s said, but he wasn’t wrong. But there are lots of ways to lose weight; I certainly wouldn’t have picked this one, for reasons I’ll explain.

I’ve fasted many times before, including some this year. For some reason, though, this fast was challenging from the beginning. For the first several days, I found my mind completely cluttered. I was addicted to social media and other mindless forms of activity. The second week was one of the hardest: I experienced lethargy, muscle stiffness and soreness, and generally foggy thinking; in fact I spent most of Monday in bed. Normally fasts get easier after 2-3 days, so I was quite surprised by my lethargy in week 2…until I realized I had cut out coffee that week and was exhibiting all the symptoms of caffeine withdrawal. I rarely consume more than ~200 mg caffeine in a day, which I assumed below the threshold to become addicted. Lesson learned.

After the caffeine withdrawals wore off (which took about a week), weeks 3 and 4 were surprisingly easy. I found myself thinking about food a lot (planning out restaurants and orders for potential upcoming vacations, planning out my birthday dinner, identifying restaurants I wanted to try…I was thinking about food a lot). Cooking dinner for you two nightly was by far the hardest part. I had read this somewhere, so was at least somewhat mentally prepared. But for the most part I could sit during a meal while others ate without being too bothered. We even socialized those weekends, and I was surprised not to be too bothered by the social conventions or potential for social pressure from others.

In fact, I was expecting far, far more social pressure to eat than I experienced. Your mom naturally worried about me, and we made a deal from the beginning: as soon as I got truly hungry, I would eat. What I experienced over and over and over: my mind really wanted me to eat. Call it ego, call it mind, call it your thinking brain…whatever you want to call that part of yourself: it was pretty constantly screaming at me to eat, at least early on. But whenever I checked my body, I found that no, I was not in fact truly hungry. One of the biggest learnings of the whole experience has been the degree to which what I thought was hunger was in fact mental chatter or compulsive behavior. [Quick aside: I’ve had multiple people misinterpret when I explained that I was deferring to my body rather than my mind; they were convinced I was describing mental discipline in the face of bodily signals. I’m fascinated the degree to which some of us are stuck in our heads, and completely unfamiliar with the signals our bodies are sending us; I say this not with judgement but compassion: just a few years ago I thought similarly.]

When your Ah Ma came home from her extended trip from Taiwan, I was fully expecting her to try to bully me into eating. We’ve had various disagreements over various topics over the couple years she’s lived with us. Historically (as has always been my habit) I tried appealing to logic; this never worked. This time I decided to be fully transparent: this is just something I have to do. She really didn’t argue with me after that, which stunned me. Another of the big lessons I’ve learned from this experience: when doing something for emotional or spiritual reasons, just own it. My habit has always been to explain logically, and I find this fails maybe even more often than it succeeds. People can sense when we are being inauthentic, and will confront us even if they don’t fully understand why. But if we’re completely honest about our reasoning, others are far more understanding.

Week 5 started getting harder again. At this point I hadn’t specifically decided how long I would go, and had started to consider longer fasts. Part of me thought “hey, I’m losing a lot of fat here! Let’s see how much we can lose!” But, again, things were getting harder. And I could see my fast was putting a strain on the family, in particular a psychic toll on your mom. Being around food was getting harder: I would just feel so tired after watching others eat, and it was about the only time I would feel tired during the day. And I was getting crankier. I was crankier than normal throughout the fast, but got progressively more so as the days wore on. I noticed it first; a few days later your mom pointed it out; eventually even Leland was teasing me a bit about getting cranky. So early in week 5 I promised your mom I would stop at 40 days (with a renewed commitment to stop earlier if I got truly hungry). At first this was pretty exciting: with 30 days behind me, I had only 10 days to go!

The last 5 days (Monday thru Friday of last week) honestly got a little dark. I did not feel particularly well. I still didn’t fell hungry, but I didn’t feel well. I was intentional about putting devices away. I was open to a little suffering (a 40-day fast seems like it should be hard, after all), but I also didn’t want to distract myself if there were any signs my body were sending that I needed to be receiving. Also, I wanted to learn whatever I was meant to learn from the fast.

I’ll admit that I was hoping for something of a spiritual breakthrough. Maybe not so dramatic as Jesus confronting Satan in the desert…but something. What I found myself leaving with was the reminder to follow that voice. That voice doesn’t lead where I wish it to lead, and it doesn’t lead at the pace I wish it would…but when I listen and follow, it seems to lead where I am meant to go.

A few days into the fast I had one of my visions. Out of nowhere the visceral fat in my body appeared. I thanked it, said goodbye, and watched it float away to be repurposed.

Over the 40 days I lost about 50 pounds. I have a scale that attempts to measure fat and muscle as a % of bodyweight. Based on that scale, I lost a little over 30 pounds of fat, a little less than ten pounds of muscle, and a little over 10 pounds of “other” weight (which I mostly assume would be the food we carry in our gut while it digests). Typically I would have panicked when seeing how much muscle I was losing: I’m old enough that rebuilding muscle is not easy. My ego is not remotely comfortable with the amount of strength and muscle I’ve lost. This point, for me anyway, just reiterates the degree to which I was following that little voice, and not my own personal designs.

There were other interesting impacts. I continued to exercise, but less than before. I could walk and do some light yoga without too much issue. Harder workouts were possible, but required quite a bit of recovery time; I would just get very fatigued. My resting heart rate ticked up a couple beats-per-minute, interestingly back up about to the level I experience when I eat meat (vs my more recent low-fat vegetarian diet). My heart rate variability decreased, indicating increased stress (which makes intuitive sense). My breathing rate while sleeping decreased, from almost 15 breaths-per-minute to about 14, which is supposed to correspond with longevity. My sleep quality improved dramatically after I cut out coffee for the next few weeks, before declining pretty dramatically over the last week of the fast. My sinuses cleared; not completely, but probably a 50% improvement over what I’ve considered “normal” my whole adult life. And perhaps most interesting of all: my asthma abated; I went from taking 3 puffs per day on my inhaler to a periodic preventative puff at bedtime.

Today is day 3 of eating. Saturday morning was pretty glorious. I woke up and had some bone broth a family friend made and brought over. For the first several spoonsful, I just sat with eyes closed, savoring the flavor. I almost cried just at the taste. The two of you were sitting next to me at the kitchen island playing cards. Leland looked up and exclaimed, “Dad, you get to eat today!” A few minutes later I sat savoring, eyes closed, when Leland said, “You’re enjoying that, aren’t you?” I opened my eyes to see Leland peering at me across Everett in their card game. It’s hard to explain that look, that mix of curiosity, knowing, and satisfaction…but it was pretty clear Leland was quietly happy to see that I was happy.

I was pretty overwhelmed with gratitude for the gift of that bone broth, and the friendship that brought it to me. Later that day I was overwhelmed with gratitude again over a rather simple text exchange with perhaps my closest friend over a band we both love (and whose music you two are beginning to appreciate, to my delight).

That first day all I ate was bone broth, plain oatmeal (you would be amazed how wonderful plain oatmeal can taste), and rice porridge with yams. I still did not feel well, and tiny quantities of food left me feeling bloated and uncomfortable. Yesterday (Sunday) was much better. I had more of an appetite, though we still kept things simple: more bone broth, more porridge, though we did try a little meat in the afternoon in order to get some protein into my body. Again, I experienced mild discomfort pretty consistently after eating, but overall felt big improvements, especially in my mood and energy level, from Saturday.

Today I went back to my yoga class, and did a gentle leg workout afterwords. I am still eating pretty carefully, but find my appetite slowly returning. We’ll see, but I’m guessing it will take me a week or so to recover my appetite and digestion. I’ve gained about 5 pounds back, including a few pounds of muscle, which seems like good progress in a short amount of time.

I have an appointment with my doctor next week. We’ll do some bloodwork, and I’ll be fascinated to see what comes out of that.

Final thought: I share none of the above to encourage you to do what I did. Indeed, I’m not sure I would recommend a 40-day fast to anyone. It was honestly pretty hard, and ultimately unpleasant. By the end I felt about as vulnerable as I ever have, and I cannot pretend I enjoyed that feeling. But I’m glad I did it. I suspect I’ll continue to learn from that experience, even though it’s over. And if nothing else, I’ve cultivated and practiced listening to that little voice.

I love you both, more than you know.

Love,

Dad