A constant learning curve

One thing I’ve been thinking about lately is how this is a process of constant adjustment and learning. The way I find most of us think about it is “make a plan and follow it”, whereas it’s actually much more nuanced, and that learning curve applies to every single aspect of this. Beyond the basic questions of “which approach do I want to take in losing weight?”, here are some of the others that have cropped up in the past almost-year-now:

How long am I comfortable fasting? This is one that most fasters have to give some thought to at some point. Some people are only comfortable with time-restricted eating, aka eating within a limited time window of 6 or 8 hours (the 18:6 and 16:8 protocols, respectively). Others are good with alternating days of 24-hour fasts*. Some people are fine with full-week fasts or regular 5-day fasts. Personally, I wouldn’t suggest doing longer than 3 days/72 hours more than once per month. It just isn’t necessary. On average, three full days of fasting per week is the general aim. My personal favourite is three fasts of 42 hours per week. Sometimes I mix it up and go a little longer, especially if I’m balancing a planned indulgence of some sort (vacation, birthday, etc). But it’s not a competition. We all have to figure out what works for ourselves.

*Don’t do this every day! It will work at first, and then it will stop working as your metabolism slows and the weight starts coming back!

What does it mean for me to “eat to satisfaction”? I’m getting better at this one, but it’s still a constant learning curve. I’m still used to planning meal portions around my former, sugar-fed appetite – aka, it was much larger than it is now. As the classic saying goes, my eyes are bigger than my stomach now, and I’m still finding myself making more food than I need, and if I eat it all, I’m uncomfortably full. Now that my insulin (triggers appetite and body fat production) and leptin (triggers the sensation of fullness and gets suppressed when insulin is too high) seem to be in proper balance now, I still find myself needing to learn to listen to my body when it’s signalling that it’s full, rather than eating for enjoyment. I’m figuring out what my portions should be, not based on any empty notion of calorie counting or even macros (the only macro I really watch is carb intake), but based on the signals my body gives that I can now trust. A body which has too much insulin production going on gives untrustworthy signals! But my body is healing itself and I’m in the process of learning to trust it again.

How many attacks can my willpower withstand? This has been an interesting thing to observe in myself, and incredibly surprising for me. I’ve been a lifelong workaholic, but always thought that not really paying attention to what/how I was eating was the one area of indulgence I was allowing myself, so I felt very dubious about my own ability to exercise control in this area, as well. However, it seems I’m vastly stronger in this area than I ever realized I could be. That said, there are limits. In an earlier post, I mentioned a day at work when I was fasting and no fewer than EIGHT people offered me the free cake that was on offer in one of the lunch rooms. I’ve gotten to the point where I don’t mind being around people who are eating while I’m fasting. I actively enjoy meal planning and even cooking while fasting now, too – though the cheesy garlic bread muffins I made the other night tested that resolve sorely! That particular day at work, I was bombarded by offers of cake, a snack cart that was being wheeled around, hot chocolate that was on offer as well, and came home feeling like I’d been in a war zone all day. My resolve held, but it was emotionally exhausting. Finding out how much we can handle is part of this, because if these elements build up too much and become triggers for failure, we’ll start resenting our fasts.

What is my body now? This is a slightly different one, but has been an ongoing question for me since about a month into this. Dramatic weight loss isn’t just a change in terms of health and literal size – it’s a change in how we see ourselves. I don’t just mean that in a strictly cosmetic manner, either: it’s a question of functions gained (or regained), a change in the way certain actions feel or work, and so much more. Sometimes when I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror, I literally don’t recognize myself. One of my newer non-scale victories is that my thighs don’t touch when I walk anymore (for the first time since my early teen years, probably!), and it changes the way walking feels. Running for a bus doesn’t make me out of breath. Sitting with my legs crossed at the knee is comfortable and easy. I have more energy overall. It’s changed the way I breathe for singing. It’s changed the positions I sleep in at night. It’s changed the way virtually every part of my body looks, and that’s an adjustment to make, too. It’s a good adjustment – but a change, nonetheless. I have never believed that the outside of myself was an accurate reflection of the inside, and while I feel that I’m beginning to look more the way I’ve always seen myself anyway, I still have these moments of seeing myself and going, “Whose legs are those? Those can’t be my legs…” It’s been a very interesting part of this whole process, and it’s not over yet, as I’m still 57 lbs away from my ultimate goal.

There are more, but I’ll leave it here for now. What are the questions you’ve found yourselves asking as you’ve gone? Leave a comment and share!

Author: SandraBender

Human rights educator & advocate View all posts by SandraBender