Coming back from a family trip
to France last weekend – with the beginnings of a Michelin tyre round my waist – I decided something must be done.
For some time the missus has been advocating the 5:2 diet. Eat normally for five days and eat nothing at all for two. I didn’t fancy it at all. Not least since I go all wobbly on my bike home from work, if I’ve not got enough sugar in my system.
Enter of all things the Qur’an. I’d decided to take a break from wading through the King James Bible (Jees it goes on) to try another holy book, to see what all the fuss is about.
And the answer to my expanding waistline came in the first sura – Ramadan. Albeit I’m not sure about no liquids (watch those kidneys), if billions of people going back over 1,500 years have managed a whole months of eating nothing all day, surely I can.
And so I can – it’s pretty easy really. A bowl of porridge to start the day and then leave food on the shelf until evening comes. Not every day of course. It’s nice to meet and spend time with people of quality over a spot of lunch. But bang in one workday and a bit of weekend discipline and hey presto.
Plus the great thing about doing it during the day, is no-one really notices. So it doesn’t become a big drama. I cooked a Sunday roast and all the trimmings last Sunday – salivating gently – and then at 6pm it was time for us all to eat. Mmmmm, it tasted all the better for a little restraint.
The spare tyre is deflating steadily. And food is something, I really fancy after a day of waiting; instead of feeling obliged to mow through, just because it’s feeding time at the zoo.
All of a sudden, Christmas feels less of a looming food mountain. At least I’ll be able to quietly shelter in the lee of all those unnecessary calories during the day.
Fasting – sounds old fashioned, but has lot to commend it in the modern world. It’s good to hear your tummy rumble once in a while.