HOLY HUNGER: LENTEN (INTERMITTENT) FASTING

At my heaviest, I was over 110 kg, with triple X pants and shirts. Not the kind of triple X that excited me.

- RICARDO T. PAMINTUAN

Ah, Lent – that magical time of year when Catholics worldwide embark on a journey of self-denial and spiritual renewal. For some, it’s giving up chocolate, sex, cigarettes, and liquor, or swearing off social media. Others shun meat on Fridays and during Holy Week. It’s like the summer version of a New Year’s resolution.

But for me, a man in his mid-50s who stumbled upon intermittent fasting (IF) like a lost pilgrim finding the Holy Grail, Lent is the perfect excuse to double down on my dietary discipline.

Now, before you start envisioning me as some ascetic monk chanting hymns while fasting in a remote monastery, let me assure you that I’m just a regular guy trying to reduce; thus, avoiding a scolding from my doctors. It hasn’t exactly been a roller-coaster ride, like most diet trends, but more like a lazy moment on the carousel or Ferris wheel.

I’ve never been the skinny, Korean idol type. Since my college days, my weight has hovered between 68-70 kilograms. Slowly but surely, I gained weight after I married and had kids. I’m not making any excuses for lack of exercise. However – and a few dads will probably agree with me – once you become a family man, no food is ever allowed to go to waste. Hey, I paid for it, I sure as hell will finish that burger or that pasta and pizza, and even that upsize soda and fries, if my kids decide to stop after a bite or two.

At my heaviest, I was over 110 kg, with triple X pants and shirts. Not the kind of triple X that excited me. My blood pressure and sugar levels were only regulated by meds.