Fasting every now and then is a good thing to do. It gets your body to use those extra reserves and fat for energy; also kind of re-calibrates your system. A person can go about three days without eating. Uncommon as it may seem today, back in the nineteenth century, even into the early twentieth century, people went a day or so without eating. It wasn’t like there was a McDonald’s or grocery or convenience store on every corner. Unless you were well off, or owned a farm, eating a meal every day, let alone three, wasn’t a given. Not much of an obesity problem back in those days like there is now.
I fast once every seven weeks, for about 36 hours. I’m fasting right now. My last meal was dinner last evening at around seven-thirty; it’s now around four-thirty in the afternoon, so approximately twenty-one hours into it (“I’m so hungry I could eat the ass end out of a dead rhinoceros.“). Generally when I fast I don’t do all that much. Just relax and read most of the day, with a nap here and there (one tends to get tired when they don’t eat for a while). Today, I decided to change that up (change is good; keeps the body guessing). Instead of lounging around, I treated it like any other day. I did my workout with kettle bells (have to at least do the swing, or the kettle bell police will show up at your door and make you do them, or they’ll take them away), plus a few other exercises (a lot of ab work) and then went for an easy five-mile run. Surprisingly, I thought I would have a difficult time of it with no food in my system, it wasn’t all that bad of a run and didn’t feel faint, like I thought I would.
And that’s all I have to say about that.