If you’re looking for expert advice, stop. Read no further.
This is the testimony of someone who has had countless battles with food – and lost every one.
That is, at least, until I stumbled upon intermittent fasting and have somehow stuck to it for two years – which is almost two years longer than my previous record with any diet. However, not only am I not an expert, I’m also not an advocate. I don’t care if you decide to give intermittent fasting a go or not. It might not suit you anyway. This is just a brief account of my experience.
I wrote about intermittent fasting before - in April, 2021. At the time, I had 12 weeks and six pounds down. Less than 3kg for three months’ effort.
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And yet ... here I am, two years later, still adhering to the diet.
This is why.
First, what it is
Intermittent fasting couldn’t be easier to understand – which is half the attraction. You don’t need to weigh your food, count calories, or cook in a certain way. There are no disgusting drink shakes to tolerate. You don’t need to know the difference between carbohydrates and “of which sugars”, whatever that means.
You just need to be able to tell the time.
In its simplest terms, you designate a certain number of hours per day where you resolve to avoiding eating anything. And then, during that time, you, well, don’t eat.
Simples.
The versions
There are several ways to join the intermittent fasting pool, but two seem to be the most popular.
The 5:2 method involves eating nothing at all for two days per week. We would never dream of recommending any diet, but that sounds particularly hellish. Naturally, we didn’t give it a second thought.
The other, known as 16:8, requires limiting all eating (and drinks containing calories) to an eight-hour window each day. For me, it has meant I haven’t eaten a breakfast since January 2020. Nothing before noon each day – apart from coffee and water.
And nothing after 8pm each evening, apart from, well, there has been cheating ... or, perhaps not cheating, but from the start the rules were personalised. I inserted two of my own.
- If I wanted to eat after 8pm on any day I could, provided I stuck to the eight-hour window. So, for example, if dinner was planned for after 8pm I made sure I didn’t eat before, say, 1pm that day – which gave me leeway until 9pm.
- Alcohol didn’t count. I know, I know, but I knew if I couldn’t have a pint I’d probably toss the entire diet before it had the chance to work. Not ideal, but it has meant I have stuck to a diet for two years that otherwise would have lasted about two days.
How it’s supposed to work
The idea is that by restricting food, our bodies will more quickly and efficiently tap our fat stores for energy. We burn fat for energy when glucose isn’t available, and this happens even more during times of food deprivation.
How it actually works
The trick to intermittent fasting is to pick times that suit both your lifestyle and your body.
If you normally have dinner at 7pm, then an eating window of noon to 8pm may suit. If you can’t live without breakfast, then adjust the window to fit that.
Just as important is to identify the times when eating is not ideal.
Before 2020, the vast majority of “rubbish” food eaten in this house was devoured after 8pm in the evening. Usually later, often closer to midnight. Crisps, biscuits, chocolate – usually, it involved a wander around the kitchen around 10pm opening presses to see what was available, easy and tasty.
So, while intermittent fasting didn’t involve cutting out treats, the time restriction meant it had a profound effect on the amount consumed daily. I did manage to fit more into the noon to 8pm window, but it was still far less than the pre-diet norm.
Why do it?
I could pretend and tell you I just wanted to be healthier. That I had read that intermittent fasting was good for the heart, insulin resistance, etc.
In truth, the number one reason was weight loss. Exercise on its own – I have proven beyond all doubt – is not enough to move the bathroom scales.
Intermittent fasting did result in weight loss.
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So, how much?
When I wrote a column about the fasting schedule after 12 weeks, I had lost just 6lb (2.7kg). However, a few months after that, it was now 15lb (7kg). A year after beginning intermittent fasting, I was 32lb (14.5kg) down.
I weighed myself every Tuesday for more than 12 months. Actually, I weighed myself several times a week – but only recorded it at a set time once a week. And then, on February 22nd, 2022, I stopped. I haven’t weighed myself in more than a year. It took me a long time to realise it was making me miserable.
It was lose, lose.
If I was down a few pounds, I was annoyed I hadn’t lost more.
If I had gained a few pounds...
So, I honestly don’t actually know how much weight I’ve lost, but it’s quite likely I haven’t lost or gained anything significant in the past 12 months. While intermittent fasting did result in weight loss, it appears to have levelled out.
Side effects and pitfalls
It’s hardly a surprise that hunger was the first, major “side effect” of intermittent fasting. It wasn’t unusual for a family member or work colleague to see me staring at a clock on the wall at 9am, 10am or 11.59am – wishing the hands would move a little quicker. And have I ran to get one final biscuit at 7.59pm? You know I have. Thankfully, it gets easier. And easier. You just have to hang in there.
Before I started intermittent fasting, I read about dizziness and headaches being typical side effects. And so, of course, I experienced regular bouts of both during the first months. If I had read that having a sore foot was a side effect, I probably would have regularly complained about foot pain.
Apparently, intermittent fasting can negatively affect your digestion – causing constipation, bloating, etc. Thankfully, I’ve avoided these side effects. Staying properly hydrated has surely been key.
Several studies, including one in 2016, found that participants were significantly more irritable during a fasting period. It’s hardly rocket science – you’re hungry, therefore you’re grumpy and sullen. My family, though, is willing to testify that I was irritable and annoying long before I began intermittent fasting.
Also, a common side effect is disruption to sleep patterns. While I haven’t noticed any link, a large 2020 study found 15 per cent of participants reported sleep disturbances related to fasting.
What I learned
A diet is very personal. There’s no one-size-fits-all. While intermittent fasting works for me, it may not work for you. And it may not even be suitable (it’s advisable, of course, to get expert advice before starting any diet).
So many people have offered advice such as: “Avoiding thinking about food.” Has that ever worked for anyone? I found it better to just lean in. When the family is having a fry at 10am on a Saturday morning, I sit at the table with a coffee. There’s no point in hiding. Believe me, you can’t hide from the smell of a fry.
Setting the parameters at the start was crucial. If I bend the rules as I go along, I tend to continue to move the goalposts until the whole exercise is pointless. But if I set realistic targets and boundaries from the start, I tend to stay in my lane.
Sixteen hours sounds like a long time not to be eating, but it can be broken up into (non-edible) bite-sized chunks. And it counts sleep time, of course, so you are really talking about four to five hours after you wake up, and the same in the evening. It does make a difference to think about it like that.
I’ve been asked a thousand times what foods I’ve given up. The answer is none. Not a single thing. This makes it so much easier. If I couldn’t eat crisps I would spend all day thinking about crisps. But I can eat crisps. Just not right now.
It’s worth remembering, it’s not intermittent fasting, it’s intermittent eating.
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