Quiet Times Lead to Big Measures 

When I started intermittent fasting on January 16, 2026, I wasn’t planning to write about it. I was simply trying something new and wanted to see what happened.

I didn’t want to talk about it after a few weeks or even a few months. I wanted to live it first. I wanted to know whether it would actually work for me over time and whether it could become part of my real life.

So I waited.

For roughly the previous five years, I had tried different ways of eating and had not been able to get the results I wanted. At 66 and post-menopausal, I had noticed how difficult it had become for me to make any adjustments to my weight.

So when I started fasting in January, I was hopeful, but I wasn’t expecting some guaranteed transformation.

I just kept going.

I fasted. I ate real food. I moved. I traveled. I went on cruises. I ate dessert. I lived my regular life.

And I paid attention to what worked for me.

Eight months later, on September 24, 2026, I stepped on the scale and saw 140 pounds.

Thirty pounds down from where I had started.

Never in a million years did I think I would see 140 on the scale again.

I’ve always been a firm believer in the idea of letting food be your medicine and medicine be your food. For me, that meant wanting to see what I could accomplish through the way I ate, when I ate, and the choices I made in my everyday life.

I wanted to see what my body could do with regular food and a fasting routine. I didn’t want to buy prepackaged food, use medication, or turn this into a complicated program.

I wanted to learn, experiment, pay attention to my own body, and figure out whether I could make a change myself.

I felt in my heart that I could.

That was my choice. 

For eight months, I kept this mostly to myself because I wanted to know where it would take me before I started talking about it.

Now I know.

And I think I’m finally ready to talk about it.