Refeed, Meet Regret
Pizza Was Confident
Last night I came off a 48 hour fast feeling like a monk who just got handed the keys to a casino buffet. Calm, focused, suspiciously peaceful, and then I decided it was time to eat, like really eat. I preheated the oven with the seriousness of a NASA launch, loaded up pizza with extra cheese and extra sausage, and thought, sure, while that’s cooking I’ll just whip up scrambled eggs. Because why stop at one main character when you can cast the whole ensemble. Then I built my daily smoothie, two cups of yogurt, a heroic handful of arugula, vitamins, powders, the usual witchcraft, and I stood there like, look at me, I’m basically health. February 25th’s Eternal Loop
Half an hour later I was not basically anything. I was full in a way that felt architectural, like my torso had applied for a building permit. I started my next 24 hour fast and immediately understood, on a deep spiritual level, that my refeed strategy was closer to panic shopping than planning. Today has been the aftermath, slow moving, slightly humbled, watching the clock creep toward the next eating window and wondering if I’m about to pull the same stunt again.
But then the sun showed up and I did the one thing that never lies. I walked. Just me, some blue sky, and that simple forward motion that tells your nervous system, we are not in danger, we are just learning. The plan is back, the volume is lower, and I’m aiming for reasonable, not legendary.