It’s been six weeks since I wrote anything about intermittent fasting. So I figure it’s OK to approach it again.

I believe the following principle is key to making it work:  Realize that hunger is a mental condition more than a physical one.

But first this, this related point…

I am re-reading “The War of Art,” by Steven Pressfield.  It’s a kind of manual for getting creative work done. Throughout, he talks about overcoming the Resistance.

The Resistance is portrayed as a devious character whose mission is to thwart your plans to accomplish anything. It is insidious and multi-tentacled.  Procrastination, for example, is one of many weapons wielded by the Resistance.

In truth, of course, the Resistance is in your own head.

And Hunger—I will now start portraying her properly, as character, with a capital H—is a close cousin.

When I’m fasting, Hunger shows up occasionally—but (surprising perhaps) not all that frequently.  She is a nag, suggesting that I wander into the kitchen and open the refrigerator.

When I’m driving, Hunger pops up in the passenger seat.  Let’s stop at Chick-fil-A, she says.  When I’m at the gym, she reminds me of what we might eat to “recover” from our workout.

I have learned this: Hunger can be ignored.  She is recurrent, but not persistent.  Disregard her and she will go away.  You’re onto the next thing and Hunger is nowhere to be found.

Like any nuisance, she has her limits.   The return intervals get longer.  She may be off badgering someone else, but she is not around nagging me.

Conversely, a little encouragement is all she needs.  When I cave (it’s rare) and grab a burger, she is back repeatedly in the following days.  She says, how about a nice turkey sandwich?

Sorry sweetie.  Not today.