Look, I’m Not a Health Nut
Let’s get this out of the way right now. I’m not one of those people who’s always talking about kale smoothies or their morning yoga routine. I’m more of a pizza-and-beer-on-the-couch kind of guy. But last Tuesday, something snapped. I was feeling sluggish, my jeans were a little tighter than I’d like, and my friend Lisa kept going on about how great she felt after trying this water fasting thing.
So, I thought, why not? How hard could it be? I mean, it’s just water, right? Wrong. So very, very wrong.
Day One: The Setup
I did some research—okay, I googled it for 10 minutes—and decided to go for 36 hours. That’s not too crazy, right? I told my colleague named Dave about it over coffee at the place on 5th. He laughed. “You? Fasting?” he said. “Good luck with that, buddy.” Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dave.
I prepared myself. I drank a big glass of water—like, a lot of water. Then I had dinner, which was probably a mistake because I ate like I was never going to eat again. But hey, I was committing to this.
The Night Before: Regrets Already?
At 11:30pm, I was in bed, stomach full, mind racing. “What have I done?” I asked myself. I mean, I love food. I love eating. This was gonna be tough.
I set my alarm for 7:30am, figuring I’d wake up and dive right in. (Dive right in? Who even talks like that? Not me, that’s for sure.)
Day Two: The Fast Begins
7:30am rolled around, and I woke up feeling… okay, I guess. I drank a big glass of water, which honestly felt pretty good. I felt light, which was nice. I felt hungry, which was not nice.
I went about my morning routine, but everything felt different. My usual breakfast of toast and eggs was out of the question. I felt like a rebel, like I was breaking some fundamental rule of life. But also, I felt a little proud of myself.
By noon, I was starving. I had a meeting with a client, let’s call him Marcus. He could tell I was off. “You look pale,” he said. “You okay?” I told him about the fast. He just shook his head. “You’re crazy,” he said. Which… yeah. Fair enough.
The Afternoon Slump
Around 2pm, I hit a wall. I was tired, grumpy, and my stomach was making noises that would be more at home on a construction site. I drank more water. And more water. And more water. I was basically living in the bathroom.
I called Lisa, the friend who got me into this mess. “How do you do this?” I asked her. “I feel like I’m dying.” She laughed. “It gets better,” she said. “Your body just needs to adjust.” Easier said than done, Lisa.
Evening: The Light at the End of the Tunnel
By 7pm, I was counting down the minutes. I had 12 hours left. I felt like I could make it. I watched TV, drank more water, and tried not to think about food. It was tough, but I was determined.
I remembered reading something about how fasting can help with mental clarity. I mean, I didn’t feel clearer. I felt hungrier. But maybe that was just me.
The Final Stretch
11:30pm rolled around, and I was free. I celebrated with a small bowl of soup. I didn’t want to go crazy, but I also didn’t want to throw up. Baby steps, right?
I went to bed feeling… different. Lighter, maybe. Proud of myself, definitely. But also, really glad it was over.
I woke up the next day feeling great. I mean, honestly, I felt amazing. I had energy, I felt light, and I was proud of myself for sticking it out. I told Dave about it, and he just shook his head. “You’re insane,” he said. Maybe. But it felt good.
Now, I’m not saying everyone should go out and try water fasting. It’s not for everyone. But for me? It was a good experience. I learned a lot about myself, about my body, and about how much I love food.
And look, if you’re thinking about trying it, do your research. Talk to people who’ve done it. And maybe, just maybe, check out the Vermont transport schedule update if you’re planning a getaway to recover afterwards. (I don’t know why that came up, but here we are.)
Anyway, that’s my story. I tried water fasting for 36 hours, and I survived. And you know what? I might even try it again. Maybe not next week, but someday. Who knows?
Just don’t tell Dave.
About the Author
Hi, I’m Alex Carter. I’m a senior editor with over 20 years of experience in the magazine industry. I’ve written about everything from politics to pop culture, but health and wellness are my real passion. I live in New York with my cat, Whiskers, and my plant, which is somehow still alive despite my black thumb. I love coffee, bad jokes, and a good debate. Follow me on Twitter @AlexCarterWrites.
