Eating Once a Day My new diet that has nothing to do with weight loss – and that transformed my relationship with food and hunger.
If you'd told me about this a few years ago, I would have called you crazy.
But now... it's almost normal.
It happened in stages, and it started a few years ago with this realization:
I'm always digesting.
That's what hit me one evening while reading an article. My digestive system is always full.
Eating was the first thing I did in the morning, often the last thing I did at night, and I could easily picture my organs getting a little fed up.
Especially since our ancestors apparently didn't eat as much as we do. And I could also easily picture how this idea of "three meals a day" might have been invented by industries that cared about something other than our health.
I tried intermittent fasting. Just to see.
A bit like when I'd stopped eating meat: the point wasn't to stop, it was to see what it felt like. After all, you can't really say you've chosen a way of life if you've never tried the other one. So let's try.
And it was... extremely easy.
Much easier than expected.
I had dinner early, around 7pm, then, aside from my morning coffees, I didn't eat anything solid until noon the next day.
About 16 hours of fasting.
And no, I wasn't tired.
Before the lockdown, I even did Brazilian jiu-jitsu in the morning. On an empty stomach. I was terrible, yes, but not weak.
And if I was really hungry some mornings, I'd eat. But it happened less and less.
Then recently, I moved up a level.
I kept reading things about the benefits of occasional longer fasts. One fast a week, or two a month.
Especially since I eat pretty badly – even if I've made progress.
I'd realized I belonged to the large family of insulin-resistant people: too much sugar, too many carbs, glucose spikes, waking up at night, high blood pressure...
It was worth exploring alternatives.
So one day, I tried a 24-hour fast. Just to see.
And it was pretty hard. Not torture, but I was cold, hungry. I couldn't think about anything else.
Three weeks later, I tried again. Easy.
Then, just to see, I tried two days in a row.
And on the second day, I barely noticed anything.
As you see me now, I'm writing this article at 9:30 in the morning and I haven't eaten since yesterday at noon.
And I'm not hungry. My mind is clear – clearer than after a meal.
Often, yes, I could eat. Honestly: I could always eat, since my whole life has revolved around food. But it's not a struggle.
It's actually much less hard than before. Hunger isn't scary anymore. I never feel weak.
The hardest part at first is giving up the ritual of the meal.
When you're used to eating three times a day, you realize how much life revolves around food. Grocery shopping, cooking, the rest after the meal. Then thinking about the next meal.
What time do I eat? It depends.
In the afternoon, usually. That way, on days when I have social lunches or dinners, it only shifts the meal by a few hours one way or the other. Easy, again.
It also means I pay much more attention to the balance of my meals. Fiber, protein, fat. Meals with everything. They don't need to be huge. But not skimpy either.
That's probably the real revolution: I've learned that hunger often comes from eating poorly. So I've learned to eat better. Every meal now ticks all the boxes.
Here's the paradox: I eat less but I'm better fed.
And yes, I feel fitter. I sleep better. I wake up earlier, with less anxiety. I have more clarity during the day.
And yes, I feel fitter. I sleep much better. I wake up earlier, with less anxiety. I have more clarity.
Overall, it has transformed my relationship with food and hunger.
As if a fear had gone out.
"We have to eat! We have to eat! What are we going to eat? What if I don't have enough? What if I'm hungry? Ahhhh!"
Now, if I'm hungry, I'm hungry. It's a much less urgent craving than before. It lasts a while. Then it passes.
(To be clear: I'm talking about a small hunger. The kind that, before, would have made me snack. If at some point I were really hungry or felt weak, of course I'd eat! But it hasn't happened yet.)
To be continued.