Greetings pop pickers and please be welcome to tonight’s Fabulously Flamboyant Friday and yet another of our groin-polished googlies from the gasworks end of contemporary culture.
Tonight, dear reader, as we respectfully mark double incontinence awareness week, Ivory Cutlery (currently sore of buttock, empty of pocket and light of piggy bank) will once again be taking the night off.
Having submitted my annual tax return and been subsequently subjected to deeply invasive and forensically extensive open wallet surgery (the dildo of taxation invariably arrives un-lubed). I (along with a few close relatives) have retreated to the archipelago of Macaronesia, where I shall lick my fiscal wounds and indulge in a spot of sun, sea and well-earned sloth. As a result I have not the slightest intention of undertaking any of my usual detailed, rigorous and fact-checked research.*
*a transparent tissue of lies – all the hard work is done by Grok
Because of this, this evening’s missive will be a shoddy and shambolic affair; a puerile stream of consciousness, written rapidly in a succession of bars, restaurants and poolside loungers. So tonight, dear reader, as I sip my G&T and contemplate this evening’s steak (thickly cut, cooked almost to charcoal on the outside, yet still blue in the middle) I shall regale you with tales of intestinal fortitude, of internal trials and tribulations, of man v food – or rather a sad and serious lack of it.
Prior to departure, one member of our party (as a gentleman, I shall not be naming names) unfortunately contracted Norovirus. One of the many malign effects of this foul virus is of course, as General Sir Anthony Cecil Hogmanay Melchett might put it, tremendous uprisings from the rear. In fact, so frequent and severe were these toiletry tribulations that holiday cancellation was a genuine possibility. I suppose the prospect of spending four hours on a flight when you are damn near incontinent is not one to be taken lightly.
Happily for our tale, the individual in question is made of sterner stuff and decided pre-flight fasting was the answer. I guess the logic is superficially sound: if nothing went in, nothing could come out. Stands to reason guv’nor. So, for the best part of 48 hours before departure, that’s exactly what our stricken companion endured – a strict water fast. Bloody good effort, if you ask me. So off to the airport we did go, in keen anticipation of a smooth and trouble-free flight, with little-to-no intestinal turbulence.
Anyway, as I have oft mentioned (in the comments wot no one reads) I myself frequently indulge in a spot of intermittent water fasting – specifically the 5:2 diet, as popularised by that Dr. Michael Mosely chap. A geezer who once allowed himself to be violated by parasites simply to get a BBC television show (honestly, the jokes and metaphors practically write themselves). Unfortunately, despite his tremendous bravery in the face of BBC parasites, he sadly lost a great many brownie points, for me at least, when he proved to be a big fan, keen advocate and enthusiastic participant of da coof vaxxx rollout. Nevertheless, despite this very serious blot on his copybook, I was still saddened when he keeled over (in 2024 while on holiday in Greece) and suddenly shuffled off this mortal coil. Anyway, despite his enthusiastic advocacy on behalf of spike protein (who really does sound like a Spinal Tap drummer) I took up intermittent fasting because of Dr. Mosely – and I shall always be grateful to him for that.
When he first released his best-selling book, The Fast Diet, in 2013, I had successfully quit smoking, but unfortunately discovered (as many do) that I was quickly heaping on the pounds. Before very long, a routine medical check-up confirmed the grim and dispiriting news that my excess poundage had transported me across the border into the dreaded world of Type 2 diabetes. I swear this was almost greeted with glee by my physician. He simply couldn’t wait to whip out his prescription pad and get me filled up with a veritable cornucopia of pills and potions. Anyway, I did my own research, came to the conclusion that type 2 diabetes might very well be a form of carbohydrate intolerance and decided that a low carbohydrate diet combined with intermittent fasting was probably a good way to fight back.
Accordingly, I cut back on my carbs (a lot!) and then started water fasting twice a week. Mondays and Thursdays were my usual days of choice. I’d finish scoffing somewhere around 21:00 on the night before, would fast throughout the following day, and then wouldn’t break my fast until at least 09:00 on the day after. A 36 hour fast – easy peasy.
The first time I tried this out, I decided to stay in bed all day. Being officially diabetic, I was a bit worried I might feel faint, nauseous, etc. – but I had absolutely no problem at all. Was I hungry? Oh, yes – absolutely famished. If your insides aren’t used to fasting, they do not take kindly to your dietary shenanigans and never stop reminding you that you are being cruel, mean and deeply negligent. Pies!, they seem to cry, belligerently. Happily, after a few fasts, your system adapts and soon begins to take your dietary nonsense in its stride.
By the way, I’m not an idiot. I talked all this over with my physician before embarking on this fasting experiment. He was clearly sceptical, gave me lots of advice on hydration, electrolytes and so on, told me not to drive or mess around with power tools, ladders, etc., and finished with a firm but friendly “well, on your own head be it…”
So a-fasting I did go. After six months I returned to my physician for a series of routine blood, urine and other checks, mostly to see how I was reacting to the generous cocktail of expensive medication I had been so thoughtfully prescribed. The results? Well, they were rather pleasing if I’m being honest. Type 2 gone, weight down, blood pressure normal. My physician was delighted, declared my medication successful and advised me to continue with his prescribed cocktail of pills and potions that were clearly doing such a spankingly good job. It was then I confessed I had never actually taken them. Not any of them. Nor would I.
Anyway, after a few years of intermittent fasting, I decided to have a go at chucking in the occasional 3-day fast. I found this far more challenging, but still tried to sneak in a couple a year in addition to my usual weekly 5:2. Eventually, these too became routine. So last year (in January) I decided to step up to a 5-day water fast. I chose January because I had no work in my diary, so I’d be able to take things easy if it was all a bit too much. I’m not going to pretend it was fun, but it wasn’t as bad as I expected and, to be quite honest, not that much more difficult than a 3-day fast.
But why? I hear you ask. What on earth is the point of all this tomfoolery? Well, quite simply, longer fasts seem to have a significant range of potential benefits:
Now then, before we start, it’s time for a disclaimer: I wish to make it abundantly clear that I have absolutely no medical training and am generally regarded as a reliably useless and utterly clueless buffoon. Therefore, any and all information contained within this article is for the purposes of entertainment only and does not constitute any form of medical advice or guidance. However, I do have some very sound advice for you and it is this: pay no attention to my fasting-related wittering and always seek the opinion, guidance and advice of your physician or other suitably qualified health provider with regards to any questions you may have regarding medical matters, concerns, conditions, treatments or lifestyle changes. Do not disregard professional medical advice or delay seeking professional medical advice because of anything you have read in this article wot is clearly written by an idiot.
Right then, now I’ve made that abundantly clear, what potential benefits attracted me to prolonged fasting?
Microbiome Health:
There is perhaps some evidence to support the claim that fasting can help to improve the quality of our gut flora. Prolonged fasting bumps off loads of our little gut critters, both good and bad. As a result, when you break your fast, you can restock your gut with stuff like keffir, kimchi, Kombucha, saurkraut, etc. and in theory end up with a post-fast gut biome somewhat healthier than your pre-fast one. Possibly.
Autophagy:
Basically, a process of cellular cleansing. Fasting kicks the body into a process called autophagy (pronounced “awe-toff-uh-jee”, unless you are Welsh, in which case it’s pronounced “ore-toe-fay-jee”), which breaks down older, weaker, damaged cells, intra-cellular components and unwanted detritus. This of course allows your old bits ‘n’ bobs to be cleared away and replaced with nice, new, healthy ones.
Production of Human Growth Hormone (HGH):
HGH levels seem to go up during prolonged fasting, which may in turn help to improve immune function, bone tissue health and fat burning.
Stem Cell Production:
During fasting, it’s believed the body creates a greater number of stem cells, white blood cells, and also allows the body to set about repairing damage to our (often leaky) intestinal membrane.
DNA MOT:
This one’s a bit more speculative. We all have defective, damaged and degraded sections of DNA. Unfortunately, these can produce unwanted effects such as inflammation, degeneration, autoimmune conditions, etc. There is some evidence to suggest fasting may suppress the expression of these areas of dodgy DNA and, in effect, provide a spot of DNA maintenance and a quick genetic tune up.
Hormone Optimization:
We all have shed loads of hormones sloshing around inside us: insulin, oestrogen, testosterone and many, many more – and they all play a vital role in our numerous and various bodily functions. However, in order to do their job effectively, hormones are dependent upon the availability, sensitivity and function of the hormone receptors on their target cells. Fasting is believed to help the body get rid of tatty old hormone receptors and replace them with brand new healthy ones. This, in turn, should allow the endocrine system to perform more efficiently and operate at lower levels of hormone production and hormone circulation.
Brain Health:
Damaged and misfolded proteins within the central nervous system are not good news. They can be caused by environmental toxins, oxidative stress and of course age-related degeneration. The build-up of these proteins can eventually impact brain function and increase the risk of various neurodegenerative diseases – this is not a good thing. However, as I mentioned earlier, prolonged fasting stimulates autophagy, which can promote the removal of damaged and misfolded protein molecules.
Anti-Cancer Effects
And, finally, another potential bonus of fast-stimulated autophagy: anti-cancer benefits. Unwanted mitochondrial gene mutations inevitably happen within our cells and can eventually lead to abnormal cellular proliferation and, as a result, cancerous growths. However, there does seem to be some support for the suggestion that fasting could suppress tumour formation due to the role that autophagy plays in the removing and destruction of damaged and misbehaving mitochondria.
So those are some of the potential or suspected benefits of fasting, but what does enduring a 5-day fast actually feel like?
Day One
Well, this is always a tough one for me. Your body will be using stored glycogen as its primary fuel source. We store glycogen in our muscles and liver, and most of this will be gone within a day or so. Our bodies object deeply to the depletion of their precious sugary reserves and start nagging you for food. As a result, first day cravings can be seriously tough. Mental Lethargy, gnawing hunger, indigestion, cravings, mood swings, increased urination, headaches and insomnia are all common side effects as the body adapts to declining levels of glycogen.
Day Two
For many, this is the toughest day. Typically you can expect to continue to with all the symptoms from Day 1, but you can add in brain fog, feeling cold, lethargic and, occasionally, the development of strange skin rashes. Many of these symptoms are allegedly caused by the your gut biome being starved. Apparently, when your poor little gut critters begin to pop their clogs in substantial numbers, they can release enough toxic substances into your system to trigger elevated histamine levels and increased inflammation. On the bright side, many find their hunger levels begin to decrease on day 2.
Day 3: The Stink
Day 3 will typically see a large rise in blood ketone levels as the body switches to ketosis (burning fat instead of carbohydrate for energy production) .As a result, many report feeling mentally sharp with enhanced attention spans. The reason for this is quite simple – our brains are very happy and extremely well adapted to the use of ketones for energy. Unfortunately, as anyone who has tried the Atkins diet will confirm, being in ketosis quickly makes you stink like a tramp’s gusset and gives you breath like Satan’s bottom after a night on the Guinness and curry.
Day 4 & 5
Happily, the final two days normally come as a great relief. You can clearly see light at the end of the tunnel and many report feeling energized, alert and very productive. Usually, I will have no hunger pangs or strong cravings, but sadly that doesn’t take away the habitual and emotional desire to eat.
I successfully completed my first 5-day fast in January of last year and a second in early September. I felt quite pleased with myself and had planned no more long fasts for the year. However, in early December I was working away from home on a long run of live dates that afforded no opportunity for healthy eating.
After about three weeks of living on sugar and seed oils (crew catering really can be complete and utter garbage), I was starting to feel quite ill (headaches, lethargy, joint pain, insomnia) and knew I would have to do something about it. So I decided no food would be better than bad food, girded my loins and embarked on something I had never previously done: endure a prolonged fast while I was grafting.
Well, day one and day two were absolutely hideous, but my joint pain receded, my headaches cleared and my energy returned. I was very pleased with the results. However, by the middle of day three, my knackered old body was starting to warn me that prolonged fasting with your feet up, watching gentlemen’s special interest videos, is a very different prospect to a-fasting when yer grafting. So, unfortunately, I was forced to break my fast with a bag of pork scratchings (all that was available at the time).
However, discovering how quickly I started to feel better eating no food than I did eating very bad food was quite a surprise and a very salutary lesson. We really are, it would seem, exactly what we eat. As for this year, well I’m beginning to eye up the prospect of an experimental 6 or 7 day fast – Gosh! Won’t that be fun…
But enough of me. “How did the flight go?”, I hear you ask. Sadly, not well, is the cruel and simple truth. But the struggles and sufferings of our stricken companion did provide some grim, in-flight, comedic value. Additionally, I’m happy to report the individual in question is now making a splendid recovery under the magical ministrations of Dr. G&T.
Anyway, that’s quite enough of my inane wittering for this evening. Unlike many unfortunate winter-bound Puffins, I have sunshine to soak up, steak to sauté (in lashing of garlic butter, of course) and a surfeit of sumptuous Spanish wine on which to slurp. So I shall say TTFN to one and all. May your pillows be tasty, your gardens inclined and your puddles well jumped. See you all in a couple of weeks when our normal sub-standard service may quite possibly be resumed.
Goodnight, and may your frog go with you – Not ‘arf!
Featured Image: http://www.cgpgrey.com, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons
© Ivory Cutlery 2026
