How Skipping Breakfast (Sometimes) Changed My Life
What I’ve learnt from trying intermittent fasting, and why I’ll never go back to eating like I used to.
I Didn’t Just Want to Lose Weight, I Wanted Answers
I didn’t start intermittent fasting because I read it in a men’s health magazine or because someone on Instagram told me it would make me “shredded”.
I started because my mum died of Alzheimer’s.
That was October 2019. And not long after, the world shut down.
By March 2020, we were in full lockdown. The days were quiet, strange, and stretched. Like many people, I had time on my hands — time to think, to feel, and to search. I found myself diving into YouTube videos, trying to understand why my mum had developed Alzheimer’s and whether there was anything I could do differently for my health.
That’s how I came across intermittent fasting.
And the carnivore diet.
And for a while, I went all in.
The results?
In 7 months, I lost 24kg (53 pounds) of body fat. I looked different, sure, but more importantly, I felt different. Clearer. More in control. There’s a kind of self-discipline that comes from this way of eating that I’d never experienced before. It felt like I’d finally taken the wheel.
So, What Is Intermittent Fasting?
Intermittent fasting (or IF, as it’s often called) is not a diet in the traditional sense. It’s more about when you eat, rather than what you eat.
At its simplest, it means giving your body a break from food for a set period, and then eating during a shorter window. One of the most popular methods is the 16:8, where you fast for 16 hours (usually overnight and into the morning) and then eat all your meals within an 8-hour window.
There’s also the 5:2 method, where you eat normally for five days a week and reduce your calories significantly on the other two. And some go further, experimenting with 24-hour fasts, or even alternate-day fasting.
For me, it started with 16:8, but over time, I got curious. I tried a 24-hour fast. Then a 36-hour one. The longest I ever went was 48 hours, and I’ll be honest… something magical happened at hour 36. A kind of calm. Focus. Euphoria, even. Not in a dramatic, spiritual way — just this strange clarity I hadn’t felt before.
I kept a small pile of Himalayan pink salt nearby and would tuck a few grains under my tongue to stay balanced. And of course, I drank plenty of water. Hydration is everything during a fast.
When you’re not eating carbs, your glycogen stores get used up. And glycogen holds water. I heard it’s about one part glycogen to three or four parts water, give or take. So when your body burns through that stored fuel, the water goes with it. That’s why you suddenly feel lighter… and also why staying hydrated becomes so important.
What Changed for Me
There’s the obvious stuff, of course. The weight.
Over two dozen kilos gone — 24kg (53 pounds) to be exact — and with it, a kind of sluggishness I didn’t even realise I’d been carrying. My clothes? Too big now. I lost what felt like inches around my waist. Belts had to be tightened, old favourites hung off me like curtains, and even walking felt different. Lighter. Easier. Like someone had taken a backpack off my back.
But it wasn’t just physical.
I had more energy. More clarity. Mornings stopped feeling like a fog to crawl through. I’d get up, drink water, maybe go for a walk — and there was this sense of calm alertness I hadn’t felt in years.
One of the most surprising things? I stopped being obsessed with food.
When you’re eating constantly throughout the day, your brain’s always thinking about the next bite — what to make, when to snack, whether you’re full or just bored. But when you fast? That noise quiets down. You begin to realise how much of your hunger isn’t physical, but emotional, or habitual.
I won’t lie, though, it takes discipline.
There were plenty of mornings when the smell of toast made me question everything. Or evenings when someone would offer me a biscuit and I’d half-joke, “I’m fasting,” while secretly fighting my inner five-year-old.
But that’s the part I grew to love. The discipline.
There’s power in saying no, in sticking to something because you’ve decided it matters. That discipline began bleeding into other parts of my life, too. Sleep. Focus. Even my work ethic.
Fasting + Keto: A Powerful Combo (But Not for Everyone)
Around the same time I started intermittent fasting, I also dipped my toe into the carnivore and ketogenic diet worlds. I’d never seen myself as someone who could live without bread, but the logic made sense. If fasting pushes your body to burn fat for fuel, why not pair it with a diet that does the same?
The first few days were… interesting.
There’s a thing called “keto flu” — and let’s just say it lives up to its name. But once my body adjusted, something clicked. My cravings dropped. My mind felt steady. And fasting became easier. I wasn’t getting the same hunger crashes. My energy stayed more level, even deep into a fast.
What helped? Salt.
A tiny pinch of Himalayan pink salt under the tongue worked wonders. That, and lots of water.
At first, I had no clue what to eat.
I remember standing in the supermarket thinking, “There’s nothing I can buy.” No pasta, no cereal, no bread — what was left? But once I started looking into it properly, I realised there’s loads. Eggs. Bacon. Steak. Omelettes. Simple stuff. Real food. It just takes a mindset shift. That’s what throws most people off in the beginning — not the hunger, but the uncertainty of what to put in the trolley.
I didn’t stick with strict carnivore forever. But I learned how powerful it can be to eat more mindfully. Fewer carbs. More whole food. Eating less just because the telly’s on.
For me, pairing keto with intermittent fasting supercharged the results. But it’s not for everyone, and that’s okay.
It’s Not for Everyone — And That’s Okay
Now, before you start chucking your toast in the bin and googling “how to fast for 72 hours,” a quick word of caution.
Intermittent fasting can do wonders, but it’s not magic, and it’s not for everyone.
Some people shouldn’t try it at all — like teenagers, pregnant or breastfeeding women, or anyone with a history of eating disorders. And if you’ve got a medical condition (especially something like diabetes or low blood sugar), fasting can get complicated quickly. Always speak to a GP first. Seriously. This isn’t one of those “I’m legally obligated to say this” disclaimers — it’s just common sense.
Even for people who can fast, the first few days can feel rough. Low energy. Brain fog. Maybe even a headache or two. It’s your body adjusting. Especially if you’ve been eating lots of carbs beforehand, because once those glycogen stores drop, you lose water fast. That’s actually why people often look noticeably slimmer in the first week or two. It’s not all fat — it’s water leaving the body as your system resets.
That early win feels great, but it’s just the beginning. The real transformation — physically and mentally — happens over time. And it’s driven by one thing above all else:
Consistency.
Final Thoughts — More Than Just a Diet
Looking back, intermittent fasting didn’t just change how I looked.
It helped change how I felt.
After my mum passed away, I slipped into a kind of quiet depression. I didn’t talk about it at the time — I just carried it. The lockdown that followed only made things heavier. But when I started fasting, something shifted. The routine gave me structure. The results gave me confidence. And slowly, I began to feel more in control again.
Fasting gave me more than a smaller waist. It gave me a sense of purpose, self-discipline, and — maybe most importantly — hope. Not in a dramatic, “I found the answer” sort of way. Just in a quiet, steady way. Like I was rebuilding something I didn’t realise had fallen apart.
If you’re curious about fasting, start small.
Skip breakfast one day and see how you feel. Drink more water. Do a little reading. Talk to a doctor if you’re unsure. Don’t do it because someone on social media told you to — do it because you’re ready to try something different.
And if you do try it… Stick with it. Even when it’s tough. Especially then.
Because somewhere between the cravings, the salt, and the stubborn bits of belly fat,
You might just find yourself again.