November 23, 1998

I was looking through my computer and found this account of one day six years ago. Life in the Fast Lane
10:30 a.m.	My eyes are wide and if I had a tail, it would be would be bushy as I leap out of bed to face the day. Of course, it is just a Saturday morning, and I don't have any big plans for today, except for watching big rivalry college football games. But, as I listen to the wonderful call of Keith Jackson, "The Voice of College Football," I have omitted one thing from my normal lazy Saturday morning routine. That is breakfast. Why do that? I usually have a nice big omelet with sausage and biscuits, but not today, for I am fasting. That's right, one day without eating. I will drink water and nothing else. This is no hunger strike to protest anything. It is not an attempt to know the pain of hunger. It is not an attempt to lose weight for wrestling. It is not anorexia. It is not Ramadan, or any other religious celebration. I am simply fasting for the sake of fasting. So far, it has not been very difficult. Of course, I did eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich before going to bed at midnight. I will provide more updates later.
2:45 p.m.	I am still going strong although I am not really going anywhere. I sit at my desk, watch football, and work on the German version of my website. This is actually my second attempt to fast for a day. A few months ago, I tried on just a regular day, but with all of my classes, work and student government responsibilities, I underestimated the amount of energy I would need during the day. Thus when I tried to find another day to fast, I looked for a day when I wouldn't expend much energy. No work today, no jogging today, only sitting. Unfortunately, that is a little boring.
6:40 p.m.	Well, it is now dinnertime, and I am hungry, although not very hungry. I have not often felt that I need to fill a gnawing hole in my stomach, but I have been tempted to run into the kitchen and fix something to eat. I should be cooking now, and I feel a stronger urge to do the act than to quench the desire that the act would fulfill. Also, football has distracted me all afternoon, but now I must find a new distraction, but the choices on TV are slim. And I have that extra time I would be using to cook and eat.
11:40 p.m.	As time marches on towards midnight, the time when I will break my fast with my aforementioned usual Saturday breakfast draws near. A day without food is not all that difficult. Yes, I am hungry, but I rarely think about it. Even when I was not distracted by close football games, a rerun of The X-Files, old-school U2, and Melville's account of Stubb killing a whale, I did not think about food that often. My stomach made only one audible growl. I could probably keep going for another few hours without much troub-There goes my alarm. It's midnight and time to eat.
Epilogue	Fasting isn't all it's cracked up to be. I was expecting some kind of transcendent epiphany, but I didn't transcend anything. I just got hungry. I spent the entire day not doing anything so that I would not expend a lot of energy, but what I gained wasn't worth sacrificing an entire day. Of course, I just fasted. I did not devote the day to something to the extent that I ignored the basic desire of hunger. I devoted my day to ignoring that desire and looking for distractions. Unguided asceticism really isn't worth anything.