The 45 Hour *SLOW* -- Part I

So the 48 hour fast didn't actually last for 48 hours. It was more like 45-46 hours, honestly. I wish that I'd had time to blog about it as I went through it, time to process the thoughts that I had during that time ... but I'm thankful to come away with this in a positive light. I'm thankful that I felt strong and healthy the whole time. I'm thankful that God used that time to speak to me on some things that were weighing me down pretty heavily.

But here's the question I've been asked a few times in the past day or so, both by comment and by email; "How'd it go?" Well for those who are curious ... Here are two most simple points.

• I am absolutely going to be doing this again. I love the way my body feels strong while I'm fasting. My muscles flex faster, harder, stronger. I wake up actually feeling energetic and alive, not tired and over-worked.
• My moods are more stable because I am a carb addict, and fasting has really brought to light the different ways that simple carbs affect me. But that's another post.

Now I guess if that's all I was getting out of the fast, it would have been a success to me. I would have come away from it proud of myself for sticking it out for that long (even though I still had to prepare meals, feed Piglet, and then clean up after the meals myself). I can say honestly that it was hard, and that there were points where I wanted to eat something REALLY bad. Toward the end of the fast every food commercial looked good, every restaurant looked good ... I would see a commercial for sandwich cheese and my thoughts would go haywire.

"Mmmm, cheese. I don't like the way that processed stuff tastes, but some good cheese would be good. And bread. I could make grilled cheese ... maybe with ham on it! Or fried bologna. And an egg. Mmmm."

And then I would just tell myself to shut up and stop being ridiculous, and I'd be fine till the next commercial break. The time went by slowly though.

When I first started this fast, it was sort of on a whim, and I didn't plan my last meal very well. I knew before I ate it that it would be the last one, but I really should have planned better, healthier. I remember thinking that I hoped I wouldn't be hungry enough on the second night to keep me awake. I remember being worried about having stomach pains, or nausea. That was the longest I'd ever gone without eating anything, and I was definitely curious about how my body would react. But like I said before, my body was willing.