Five weeks ago I started intermittent fasting (eating between noon and 8 PM) and eating healthier (mostly paleo). When I weighed in a week ago, I’d lost 9.8 pounds (woowho). When I weighed today I was up a pound (boo). Still, this is a total loss of 8.8 pounds, and that’s not too shabby, especially considering I’ve been fighting some sinus junk for the last three weeks and haven’t done much exercising. Thankfully, the junk seems to be (finally) clearing out, so forgetting that which is behind, I press forward toward the mark of getting into my own pants (since I can’t get into anyone else’s).

That’s a sex joke, Mom.

Since I began intermittent fasting, a number of people including my therapist have suggested I try fasting for at least a day because fasting for longer periods of time gives your body a break (from digesting) and allows it to focus on healing. So in the spirit of trying new things for the sake of my health (and waistline), starting last night at 9:30 (after I ate a piece of pumpkin pie), I fasted for 23 hours. And whereas I was definitely hungry, it wasn’t terrible. In fact, today was kind of the perfect day. I slept in, spent six hours watching Season 3 of The Deuce, and went for a hourlong walk. Then at 8:30 I had dinner (thanks, Mom). And whereas I ate two helpings, I didn’t go crazy. Now it’s 9:55 and I feel fine–not hungry, not full.

For me the hardest part about not eating for almost 24 hours was deciding I could do it. It’s weird how attached you can get to the idea of food. You think, I’ve got to have it. Last night and this morning (before I’d fully committed to doing this thing) I thought, I’m not sure if I can skip two meals. What if I die? Of course, I didn’t really think of fasting as a matter of life and death, but I did wonder the same thing I’ve always wondered when I’ve quit cigarettes–What if I’m not strong enough? But having quit cigarettes and now having fasted for just under a day, I know I am strong enough. In both cases, it was just a matter of deciding I was going to do it.

And then doing it.

Something else I’ve recently decided to do is take cold showers. This last February I listened to a podcast about the benefits of cold exposure, and although the idea of exercising your cardiovascular system by subjecting it to varied (cold) temperatures made sense to me, I didn’t do much with it. However, last week I signed up for a free 10-day online class with The Iceman, Wim Hof, who’s a huge proponent of cold therapy and deep breathing. Wim has been awarded 26 world records, including one for climbing Mt. Everest in a pair of shorts. Anyway, I figured if he could do that, I could take a two-minute cold shower, which I did today. And whereas it was shocking at first, like the fasting it wasn’t terrible. Once I started breathing deeply (which your body does instinctively if you don’t hold your breath), it was fine. Not pleasant, not cozy, but fine.

As a self-professed cold hater, I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but taking a cold shower was actually fun. At least it was fun when it was over. Wim says your body releases cannabinoids and opioids when exposed to cold temperatures, so maybe that was it. Regardless, I did feel euphoric, more alive.

Having struggled with sinus issues most of my life, there’s a part of me that always feels weak. Like I could fall ill at any moment. Consequently, I often don’t trust my body. I get invited to do things, go on long trips, and I think, What if I can’t? What if I get sick? And whereas I don’t have all the health answers I’d like to have (who does?), one of the positive things that’s come out of my journey the last few years is that I’m beginning to trust my body more. Last year I went through a battery of tests that basically said I was healthy as a horse. My immune system is stellar. I don’t have allergies. Granted, I still get some crud now and then, but little by little, I’m coming around to the idea that my body isn’t broken. At the very least I’m learning that I’m stronger than I thought I was. I can fast. I can handle the cold. I can write every day for over two and a half years. Now this is what I’m convinced of–that we are all capable of more than we realize.