Today marks my 123rd day without sugar. That doesn’t mean I’ve given up, say, ketchup,* which needs it to keep the tomatoes in line. It means saying no to foodstuffs like this
So basically, everything that makes a life worth living. Though frankly I can live without apples for another 123 days.
This isn’t the first time I’ve deprived my body of the building blocks of fat. In 2016 I managed a similar fast that lasted almost as long, and reduced to my lowest weight in decades. (Cutting down my usual grazing to three meals a day also helped.) Unfortunately I then spent the next couple of years suffering a case of sugar-induced amnesia that made me forget how good it had felt to be 32 again.
It’s been easier this time. Except for a pop tart [what I call all toaster pastry products by default] -related delirium about a week ago, I honestly haven’t had cravings.
I sense this has to end at some point. It isn’t sustainable. The centre cannot hold. But perhaps it can get smaller first.
PS. “Did you photoshop that ‘Mmm’?” my wife asked. No I did not.