I have chosen a 19:5 intermittent fasting schedule for now. My fast goes from eight in the evening to three in the afternoon. I break my fast at three.
The first day, there were some small hunger pains. But I pushed the water and they went away. I kept my exercise to walking the dog. But that does mean several miles a day. He’s a ball of energy.
I chose not to track food macros or calories for now. My idea was that if I was going to try this lifestyle I would be kind to myself. I would only have low impact workouts, I’d get good sleep, and I’d not police my food when I did eat. Mindful that I believe in eating fruits, vegetables, and lean ethically sourced meats. But if I wanted carbs, even a cookie, or dairy, I would also have that. Restrictive and fearful attitudes toward food is what I’m trying to recover from. So demonizing any food is counter productive to that goal. I read Delay Don’t Deny and believe this is a healthy mental approach for me right now.
Day One, like I said, not too difficult. Heck. totally doable. I only consumed black coffee and water until my window opened. Day Two, was also not too challenging. I consumed a lot of food in my window, day two, but because I now can count calories in my sleep, I know it was under 2,000. And speaking of sleep. I am getting around seven to eight hours a night, more on sleep in another post.
Day Three, I woke up, and realized, oh, this day is going to challenge me. My hunger was more intense. I was aware of missing my habit of having morning toast, and a mid-day meal. I added lemon to my water and consumed twice as much as the day before to get over it. And by mid-morning I was fine, strong, and had no worries about not making it to my window. I even wound up pushing my window later because the dog walk lasted longer than I anticipated. I felt an energy surge too. I was not weak or light headed. I was fine. I ate until I was satisfied to break the fast, and then had a dinner. Oh, and cookies before the window closed. I am not going to assign guilt to any of those food choices.
A word about hunger. It has controlled me in the past. And I’ve also feared it. Like, what if I get hungry? Hunger, with this way of eating, does happen. But I’m learning it’s not a big damn deal. We live in a country where food is readily available. I am not going to starve. I’m not sure even why I fear the hunger. Hunger means what? That I might get light headed? I didn’t. Hunger means that I might make a poor food choice out of desperation? I didn’t. Assuaging Hunger made me happy, or filled some hole I thought I had in my life? I don’t know. But I do know Hunger with a capital H, was my boss. Fear of its arrival determined my course of action. Hunger ruined my plans and intentions. Now I’m visualizing something else. Hunger is a blowhard. It’s full of shit. It can’t control me or bully me by threatening that it will get worse, or I’ll get light headed, or my stomach might hurt. Do your worst Hunger. You’re a fucking liar. And you’re not so tough as I thought you were.
So, back to actual results. I’ve been tracking my weight every day. Not because I expect to lose everyday but because I want to see trends and averages over a month of this way of eating. From day one, to day two, my weight was the same. Day three I woke up was down 1.4 pounds, Day Four, this morning. I was down another 1.2. When I complete seven days, the morning of January 28th, I will average the loss. Data. Weight is data. Nothing more. The scale is a tool. That is all. I will no longer hate it. I will use it like a mother fucking scientist.
Hunger and The Scale are being relegated to something less significant, less beastly. Hunger is now being re-framed as cues, what cues is my body giving me? A lot less goddamned ominous and a lot more accurate. I’m learning the cues and not bowing down to some sort of oppression, got that Hunger? And The Scale. You’re data collection device. That’s it.
Onward to the second half of week one. The weekend is included in that. There be monsters there too. But I’m determined to slay them.