Science says: Fasting is good for you!
Well… food fasting is good for you. For like… a day. Or two.
And you still to have water.
And eat clean.
(Close enough.)
I’ve got a friend or twenty who do cleanses and fasts and coconut water fasts and…
…it’s dizzying. I can’t keep up and I don’t have any warm fuzzy feeling about trading in tomatoes for dirty dishwater. They make it seem intuitive (do it when your body needs it) and I’d totes be down with that, but my mind body connection is sort’ve off to the point where I can’t trust it. I hafta do a bit of work to get into normal people mode each day – so I’m no sure what to use for “this is the normal-A.M. shitty feel” versus “Uh oh, I have ebola again” barometer. I usually just wait till I go all Linda Blair on my barista and paint her in last night’s soup before I dare to say, “Hmmm. I might be slightly under the weather.”
Whether you’re like me or can see the sickies coming a mile away with your third eye, science has shown evidence that short-term fasts can be alright for both boosting immunity, mental function, and longevity. Immunity-wise, the fast allows an expedited killing off of damaged, useless bum white blood cells loitering around your body and smoking weed on the couch all day, while the other ones are hard at work. Then, when your body machine rebounds, your stem cells are all like “I got this shiz” and set you up with a brand new sexy batch of healthy replacement WBCs to kick pathogen ass.
Long term, though? No Bueno. In fact, when people do this for non-sickness reasons – like diet or religion – if they’re body-smart, they’ll either stop after a day or two or eat at sundown. The best thing to remember though is that – even though it’s singing your name like an Odysseyean siren – go for fruits and veges (says science, not me) versus the crappy stuff after your fast. Your body’s telling you yes and your mind’s telling you “Don’t come to me for a second opinion when your father already gave you an answer. Go to your room, you insolent child! And bring this entire cheesecake and a serving spoon!”
So you’ve got two shoulders full of devils. But your higher-mind knows that’s just your biological programming Matrixing itself into the Grapes of Wrath and thinking ya might never see food again until the incestuous supper finale when you have to drink milk from your daughter’s titties.
Wait – was it daughter? Or niece?
Nephew?
I dunno. I’ve starved to get skinny before. But now that I can halve my weight and eat shit too (let’s collectively acknowledge that that failed as an “have my cake” substitute and move on), it seems less appealing to do for funsies. Plus, I get addicted to things easily. And fasting is one of those things where it’s annoying at first, but then you start to get this high toward the end where you feel like Casper’s drunk cousin. That lithe, intoxicated, starvation valium can be a bit too easy to latch onto – and by the time it sets in, my brain’s not functioning well enough for me to think, “Oh, these must be symptoms of my body shutting down!” Instead, my Oliver Twist antithesis kicks in, rejecting rations, and singing Pink Floyd remixes in joyful protest of sustenance.
“We don’t need no mastication
We don’t need no peristalse
Hey! Wolfgang! Leave me the Puck alone!”
Yeah. No. One’a you’z try this.
And report the results back to me.