I have spent hours — days at this point — trying to get my mind away from solid food. Nearly every extra hour with nothing to do is spent thinking of how amazing a single potato chip would taste. It’s funny, I don’t miss eating, but I do miss the texture of food in my mouth. Variety really is the spice of life, and right now this dish called my life is missing some pepper.
Regardless, two days into this beer fast and it has been remarkably manageable. Days go by slowly, online classes march along and my stomach rumbles, and these are the three constants in my socially distant life. But as I’ve mentioned before, this has become more of a mental challenge than a physical one. Apart from unusual stomach sounds, no real discomfort has surfaced, other than the nigh-unbearable desire to eat a cheeseburger. But that will continue, I’m sure.
I want to make sure that before we get too far into this, in no way am I, or The Phoenix, advocating for a beer fast. I’m only doing this to prove a point to myself, and to maybe relish in my German heritage a little. If you want to go ahead and participate, it’s out of my hands.
But if you are indeed trying to attempt a beer fast, I have one recommendation for you: do not live with people who love to cook.