I have this long-term in-built fear of hunger.
It comes from my early days as a personal trainer.
I coached kickboxing at a very busy city-centre gym. Most days were anywhere from 8 to 14 hours of straight coaching.
Back-to-back hours, no break, intense as hell.
Padwork, sparring, drills. Exhausting. But more than that, famishing.
Christ I used to get so fucking hungry.
And not a little hangry. Proper losing my sanity hunger.
I would pray for a client to be 5 minutes late just so I could shove some food down my neck.
Then, home at 11pm and just eat everything.
After years of this, the pattern was set. Eating very much, very late.
It’s a pattern i’m trying to break.
Which brings me to fasting.
This week has been an experiment.
No food from 2pm every day until breakfast the next morning.
This might not seem much like fasting, and its probably not.
For me though, its a big deal.
Usually if I even anticipate hunger, I want to cut it of at the pass.
“Better eat something in case i get hungry.”
Trying to remind myself I can live without food longer than my monkey brain makes me think I can.
Hunger is a natural thing, and should probably, at least in some small way, be part of day-to-day life.
Giving my self-discipline a bit of a tune-up is no bad thing either.
Use it or lose and all that.
So, here I am, at home after another long day, feeling hungry and staying busy.
Trying not to panic.
Definitely not thinking about how much I want to go and raid the cupboard.