What a 48 Hour Fast Taught Me About Boredom and Creativity

Anyway, here’s what that 48 hours without food felt like and how it shaped my opinion about personal creativity, expression, and more.

The Real Reason I Chose a 48-Hour Fast: Testing My Limits

Alright, so I chose to fast for 48 hours out of curiosity. I wanted to push myself past the usual 24-hour mark. Everyone and anyone can do 24 hours. At least that was my thought.

I craved a real challenge. So I jumped right in, without much preparation. I knew it would be tough, but I also knew it would teach me something. I expected to be taught—the self-instruction would come from pain or discomfort and I wanted to be a part of it. You learn by doing.

…[The] slight tug on the side of my ribs persisted…It was more like an old friend: “oh hello, there—now go away”.

Yeah, I heard going longer would do that, too. But 72 hours or even those 5-day long fasts seemed excessive. Maybe something I’d try for the future?

A time window of 48 hours without food I believed would give me a good sense of the experience without disrupting too much of my life. After all I still had to function in my day job and perform all the duties of a full time parent, as normal.

Day 1 Struggles: Facing Hunger and Breaking Mental Barriers

It sucked. That’s all I can really stay up front. NO food. Just water and black coffee. No caloric intake.

The first day was definitely the hardest. Hunger hit right on cue—lunch, dinner—and the urge to eat was almost automatic. My body was on autopilot, expecting food just because that’s what it was used to.

My brain knew what it wanted, and deigned it’s mission to make me experience its needs. Haunted by food or thoughts of salty hot dogs and fries drove me to find ways to cope.

To handle it, I kept myself busy. I worked hard, using productivity with my work; mostly as an academic writer, a distraction. It worked—at least for a while.

I went for walks. I tried smoking a cigar in a cold, windy evening—I’d heard its nicotine would blunt the cravings for food. It kind of worked for a few hours. But, the fast few hours of the day came down to just focusing on going about things and mentally girding myself from going into the fridge.

I drank a lot of coffee but not much more than my usual 3 cups per day. Maybe I had a 2-3 cups more of decaffeinated coffee, but I didn’t keep track of those.

As a biologist, I knew that during this 24 hour period my body was likely undergoing a few adaptive processes. But I also realized that 24 hours wasn’t really that long of a time. Humans already have that 24 hour physical limit baked in–we can do it fine—it’s our brains and mental cravings that hurt, mostly.

So I resolved to just deal with the mental part of the first 24 hours. “Yeah, you’re hungry” I would say to myself; but you “don’t need food”. You’ll be fine. I went in the first day of the fast ambitious, and ended the first day with a smile that I’d likely finish this challenge.

Sure, the idea of another day without eating was intimidating. But I figured if I could sleep early, I’d make it through. And the next morning did bring some relief. Mornings were easier; my body’s never really needed breakfast, so I leaned into that rhythm.

Day 2: Boredom, Oh, How I was bored

When people get bored, it’s a good thing. Boredom means two things: First, you’re safe, with all the trappings for survival in your life fulfilled, and second, you have time to spare.

On day 2, the one thing I hadn’t expected at all was boredom!

After the hunger pangs subsided, which they did quite a bit for me in the late-morning of the second day, I realized that I had so much time to spend. And a quick word on the diminishing feeling of hunger. For me, my body, I didn’t feel the physical need as sharply on the second day.

The cravings were there, and the slight tug on the side of my ribs persisted, but it wasn’t painful. It was more like an old friend: “oh hello, there—now go away”.

With this being said, I empathize with those who fast for this long and still feel the hunger pangs strongly. Everyone is built differently. So, everyone may experience what I did in a different way. Again, for me fasting was a curiosity experiment and as you’ll see, I learned a bit.

I realized just how much of my day(s) revolves around food—thinking about it, preparing it, eating it, cleaning up afterward. Maybe on a particular day, I’d plan to go out to a restaurant or drive-thru place for a quick meal. These all take time up from my day.

Without all that, I found myself with hours of open time. I couldn’t fill that space up quick enough…which led to all that blank potential. Food, it turns out, takes up a huge part of my day.

Food wasn’t just fuel, but I had grown to use food as a way to fill time, much like a hobby can be a comforting distraction. Ugh. That thought hit me hard. It was a light-bulb moment around lunch time.

Like a blank canvas, an unpainted mini, it was both daunting and freeing. I ended up going for a few walks, drinking water and coffee (sometimes caffeinated, sometimes not)—sipping it slowly mind you; trying to slow it down—and finding ways to stay engaged with other things. I also worked a tad longer on a project for my day job and indulged in a TV show (which I barely do nowadays).

Yeah, we’ve heard this before: Fasting, much like creativity, involves leaning into discomfort which forces the individual to fill emptiness with creative pursuits.

Oddly enough, fasting also dulled my desire to create for a while. I tend to hit the hobby painting table pretty much everday. But, during this time I just decided that I didn’t want to push it. I wanted to do something different. Yes, I was also a bit mentally drained I think trying to cope with the previous day’s fasting struggles.

By mid-day, just as my body and mind were resting and resetting, which is how I now think what was happening in hindsight; taking a break from my creative work would help me rediscover the reason behind it.

I think, truly; if you’re creatively blocked, writing something or making some artistic thing, maybe a type of creative fast could help you too. Stepping back from food and working on those hobbies for that brief 2 day period reminded me of what I loved what I do. It brought genuine inspiration and motivation.

A tension to go back to “before the fast” was grew in me over the two days of food abstinence.

A First-Hand Lesson: Building “Time Resilience” Through Food Abstinence

Maybe I’d go on a long road trip and get to my destination faster. I wouldn’t need to stop for food. Maybe just the bathroom with a cup of black coffee is all I need. If I’m traveling abroad for work, I easily deal with a longer flight or the shifting time zones and odd meal times.

I could thrive under challenges that an extra expenditure of time. Ever feel rushed to do something? Skip a meal and you get back 1-2 hours of time! It might sound a bit melodramatic, but knowing I didn’t need food every day gave me a real sense of resilience. It made me think about the difference between needs and wants.

I also realized how much time I spend—maybe even waste—on food. Planning it. Preparing it. Thinking about it. Without that, it opened my eyes to just how much I rely on these meal-focused routines. The knowledge that I could break those routines without any detrimental effects, maybe even health benefits, was an amazing lesson.

What Other Habits Can I Break???

Now I’d thought about it afterwords when writing this post—If I could go without food, what else could I let go of? What other habits do I stick to without needing them?

It’s like when I find myself painting miniatures with the same color schemes over and over because it’s comfortable. Yup, purposefully creating a vacuum is uncomfortable. It literally sucks (pun). But it forces us to fill the gap with something new. During the fast, I learned to value the space, the emptiness.

The Bite After…

Breaking the fast like…well, finishing a marathon, a thing you worked hard on for so long. Like the final dice roll that decides it all. That first bite of food was filled with “I’m done”.

I realized how often I eat without tasting. Just like how I sometimes move through oh so many hobbies without appreciating them. Fasting renewed my appreciation for eating. It’s almost cliche, and said in so many ways; but the feeling of the metal fork stabbing that big nugget of General Tso’s chicken (yes my first meal after 48 hrs was Chinese takeout), was visceral pleasure.

Conclusion

Okay, some of you may say that 48 hours isn’t that long. You guys are not only correct, but you’re the people I’m want to hear from because now I’m curious about longer fasting adventures.

Alright this should be noted: I knew what I was doing was okay for me, health wise. I’m on good shape. And, of course, I’m not an expert in this stuff, and this was purely a personal experiment so I encourage anyone considering fasting to consult with a healthcare professional.

For myself, fasting for 48 hours was a challenge that ended up creating a sense of brief boredom and discomfort that subsequently fed into a sense of well-being. I learned what resilience could be like if it was applied to other hard-to-do things.

Anyway, that’s my run up, write up.

Now, I want to know: Have you tried this? Why? I’d love to hear how voluntary absence from yummy things left a mark.

Now, I’m thinking of doing a much longer fast—3 days, a week. I’m sure I could. But, should I?