SigmaMyself
Growing up, I had really bad eating habits, I only ate when I was hungry and food was not an important aspect of my life. It became worst as I got older as I never had a good understanding of nutrition. My approach to food was simple, eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. I never thought much about nutrition until my late 20s, when my body sent me a harsh wake-up call. At nearly 30 pounds overweight, I suffered a severe gout attack that left me in immense pain. My joints ached constantly, my energy crashed, and I knew I had to make a change. This sparked a 20-year journey of experimenting with nearly every diet imaginable, from juice cleanses to carnivore, keto diet to finally intermittent fasting, all in search of what truly worked for my body.
I consider myself a mesomorph, I'm pretty slender, not to skinny nor to fat. I played a lot of sports in high school and worked out at an early age, this kept my body in pretty good shape. My mission wasn’t just about looking better, it was about understanding how food impacted my health and finding a way to feel strong, energized again but most importantly lose the weight to a healthy level.
What I learned over two decades of trial and error was that dieting is never as simple as the latest trend makes it seem. The truth is, there’s no universal "best" diet. What worked for others often failed for me, and vice versa. The real breakthrough came when I stopped chasing quick fixes and instead focused on learning how my body uniquely responds to food.
In this article, I’ll share the ups and downs of my journey, the diets that didn’t work, and the approach that finally helped me lose the extra weight, keep it off, and feel better than ever. It’s not about strict rules or fleeting trends, but about finding what truly nourishes your body and sustains you for the long haul.
The Myth of the One, Size, Fits, All Diet
The fitness world often speaks in absolutes. "This diet is the holy grail!" or "Eliminate this food group for guaranteed results!" As someone naturally inclined toward a muscular physique, I initially accepted this rhetoric without question. Like many, I was tempted by quick fixes and the promise of a universally effective approach. But the overwhelming volume of conflicting information left me confused. Some swear on benefits of juicing, another advocated meat only diets, while others insisted on eliminating entire food groups. Navigating this maze of nutritional dogma felt risky, with every choice potentially leading to either success or failure.
My journey through these dietary trends included vibrant but unsustainable juice fasts, the primal intensity of carnivore eating, the simplicity of paleo, and the strategic timing of intermittent fasting. Each became a personal experiment, teaching me valuable, if sometimes uncomfortable, lessons about how my body responded. The biggest revelation wasn’t that one diet worked best, but that human physiology varies dramatically. What transforms one person might do little, or even harm another. Over time, my pursuit of a lean physique evolved into something deeper, a quest for self-understanding, an effort to decode my body’s unique language.
Juice Diets
Drawn by the promise of detoxification and rapid weight loss, I dove into the world of juice cleanses with near-evangelical enthusiasm. Visions of vibrant, nutrient-packed elixirs flooding my system and purging toxins fueled my initial zeal. I meticulously researched recipes, invested in a high-powered juicer, and stocked my fridge with mountains of organic produce, kale, beets, ginger, and every brightly colored fruit I could find. My juice fasts typically lasted three to seven days, a self-imposed purification ritual in pursuit of a "clean slate."
The first few days brought a mix of deprivation and fleeting euphoria. I felt lighter, almost hollow, as if my body had been scrubbed from the inside out. The scale rewarded me with a rapid drop in weight, though I later realized this was mostly water loss and the absence of solid food in my digestive tract. My energy levels swung wildly: some mornings, I buzzed with unnatural clarity; others, I slumped through the day in a fog, my stomach growling despite the constant stream of liquid calories. Mood swings became unavoidable. Without real meals, irritability crept in, and my thoughts fixated on when I could next gulp down another bottle of juice.
Socially, the cleanse was isolating. Shared meals became awkward explanations, met with raised eyebrows and concerned remarks. "You’re only drinking what?" friends would ask, as I sipped my fifth celery-kale concoction of the day. But beyond the mental and social strain, the physical impracticalities were undeniable.
For starters, juicing lacks protein, a non-negotiable for anyone, but especially for someone like me, who values muscle retention. Vegetables and fruits offer vitamins and antioxidants, but without adequate protein, my body began cannibalizing muscle for fuel. Fiber was another casualty. Stripped away in the juicing process, its absence left me perpetually unsatisfied, my digestive system sluggish. And then there was the staggering cost. Because I insisted on organic produce, my grocery bills skyrocketed. It took pounds of vegetables to yield a single bottle of juice, and some weeks, I spent $300–400 just on fruits and vegetables, an unsustainable expense for something that left me hungry and fatigued.
The moment I reintroduced solid food, the initial "progress" reversed almost overnight. The weight returned, and with it, frustration. I had mistaken a temporary flush of water weight for real, lasting change.
The Takeaway
While I still believe a short 2–3 week juice reset can be useful for cleansing, especially if supplemented with protein shakes to prevent muscle loss, it’s no long-term solution. What I once thought was detoxification was really just deprivation. True nourishment doesn’t come from extracted liquids but from whole, balanced meals, fiber for satiety, protein for strength, and fats for sustained energy. My juice cleanse experiment taught me that the body thrives on real food, not illusions of purity.
My Carnivore Experiment
Seeking a stark contrast to the perceived "weakness" of a juice diet, I next found myself drawn to the primal intensity of the carnivore diet. The premise was simple, eat only animal products. This elimination of all plant, based foods felt radical, a stripping away of dietary complexities to focus solely on the building blocks of animal protein and fat. My motivations were a mix of curiosity and a desire to tap into some ancestral form of eating, hoping it might finally unlock the secret to shedding my stubborn belly fat.
My carnivore experiment involved a diet primarily of beef, supplemented with some pork, chicken, and occasionally fish. Seasoning was minimal, often just salt. The initial transition was challenging. My digestive system, accustomed to a mix of foods, took time to adapt. However, after a few days, I noticed a significant increase in satiety. The high protein and fat content kept me feeling full for extended periods, and the constant cravings I had experienced on other diets seemed to diminish. My energy levels stabilized, and I even noticed an improvement in mental clarity.
Physically, I did experience some initial fat loss, though it wasn't as dramatic as I had hoped. The simplicity of the diet was both a benefit and a drawback. Meal preparation was incredibly easy, but the lack of variety eventually became monotonous. Social eating became even more challenging than with juicing, requiring careful planning and often feeling isolating.
The carnivore diet, while offering a unique perspective on satiety and the role of animal protein, raised concerns about long, term nutrient deficiencies and the potential impact on cardiovascular health. While I appreciated the sustained energy and reduced cravings, the restrictive nature and the lack of plant, based micronutrients ultimately made it feel unsustainable for me. This experiment taught me about the power of protein in managing hunger but also highlighted the importance of a balanced intake of vitamins, minerals, and fiber found in a wider variety of foods.
My Keto Phase
Seeking a more structured approach that prioritized metabolic efficiency, I next explored the keto diet. The core principle of shifting the body into ketosis, by drastically reducing carbs, increasing healthy fats, and moderating protein, resonated with my goal of optimizing fat burning and energy levels. The focus on whole, unprocessed foods like meat, fish, leafy greens, nuts, seeds, and high-fat dairy while cutting out sugars, grains, and most carbs aligned with my desire for a science-backed, results-driven way of eating.
My keto journey required a major overhaul in my grocery shopping and meal planning. I embraced cooking with rich, satisfying ingredients, experimenting with recipes that highlighted fats like avocado, coconut oil, and grass-fed butter. I enjoyed the steady energy and mental clarity that came with ketosis and found the reduction in cravings, especially for sugar and refined carbs, to be liberating. My digestion improved, and I noticed fewer energy crashes compared to higher-carb diets.
In terms of body composition, I experienced rapid initial weight loss, primarily from water, followed by a gradual but consistent reduction in body fat. However, the stubborn belly fat remained a challenge, albeit slightly diminished. The keto diet’s strict carb limitation undoubtedly helped control insulin spikes and reduce inflammation, which I appreciated. I also liked that it allowed for delicious, satisfying meals without constant hunger.
That said, I found some aspects of keto restrictive, especially in social settings where carb-heavy foods were the norm. The need to meticulously track macros and stay under 20g of net carbs took effort, and I occasionally missed the flexibility of eating fruits and certain vegetables freely. My keto phase taught me the power of fat adaptation and how profoundly sugar and refined carbs had impacted my energy and appetite. It gave me a new appreciation for metabolic flexibility, but I still wondered if there was a way to maintain the benefits of ketosis without such strict, long-term carb avoidance.
There’s something special about the keto diet, out of all the diets I’ve tried, this is the one I stuck with the longest until I finally found the diet that matches my bodies needs. What surprised me most was that, despite its restrictiveness, I rarely missed carbs. The only one I truly enjoyed was rice, and even cutting that out wasn’t difficult. What I loved most was indulging in all the healthy fats, creamy avocados, rich coconut oil, and buttery meats made every meal satisfying and delicious. And when I entered ketosis, the mental clarity was incredible. My mind felt sharp, focused, and problem-solving became effortless.
But the real game-changer? Learning to love vegetables. The keto diet forced me to incorporate greens into every meal, and now, no matter what I eat, they’re a non-negotiable part of my plate. Keto didn’t just change my diet, it changed the way I think about food.
Intermittent Fasting
My exploration took an intriguing turn when I stumbled upon the concept of intermittent fasting (IF). Unlike the previous diets that focused on what I ate, IF centered on when I ate. This approach felt less restrictive in terms of food choices and more about strategically timing my meals. I was drawn to the potential benefits of improved insulin sensitivity and the idea of allowing my body periods of rest from digestion.
I experimented with various IF protocols, starting with the popular 16/8 method (16 hours of fasting followed by an 8, hour eating window). I found this to be the most manageable and sustainable for my lifestyle. Initially, the fasting periods were challenging, particularly in the mornings. However, my body gradually adapted, and I found that the hunger pangs subsided after a week or two. During my eating window, I focused on consuming whole, nutrient, dense foods, often incorporating elements from my paleo experience.
The impact of intermittent fasting on my body composition was noticeable. While the other diets had yielded some degree of weight loss, IF seemed to specifically target my stubborn belly fat. I started to see a gradual reduction in my waist circumference, something that had eluded me with the more restrictive approaches. I also experienced improved energy levels throughout the day and a greater sense of mental clarity during my fasting periods.
Intermittent fasting has become a permanent part of my life, and after more than five years, I can’t imagine ever going back. The benefits align perfectly with my lifestyle, making it an easy long-term commitment. My typical eating window runs from 3 PM to 8 PM, though I usually finish by 5 PM. The best part? No post-meal sluggishness, just energy and clarity once I’m done.
The only real challenge comes when I’m with my kids. I love taking them out for breakfast occasionally, but those mornings mean sitting back while they enjoy their meals. Recently, my son and I had a father-son day at a local diner. The smell of pancakes and bacon was tempting, but instead of eating, I soaked up the moment, great conversation while he dug into his plate. It’s a small sacrifice, and since we don’t eat out often, it’s more than worth it.
My Evolving Relationship with Food and My Body
My years of experimenting with diets have been as much about self-discovery as they have been about chasing a leaner physique. I’ve moved away from the illusion of a "perfect" diet and toward a flexible, intuitive approach, one that prioritizes my body’s unique responses over rigid rules. I now eat only whole, nutrient-dense foods as the foundation and use intermittent fasting as a tool. The biggest lesson I've learned is there’s no magic bullet.
The truth is, you won’t learn anything meaningful about your body in just a month or two. Most diets require real time, six months, a year, or longer, to truly understand their effects. Experiment, but commit. Pick an approach that feels sustainable and stick with it long enough to see how your body responds. Observe, adjust, repeat. What works for others may not work for you, and that’s okay.
Consistency outweighs perfection. Short-term fixes lead to short-term results. The real transformation happens when you find a way of eating that you can maintain for life.
At the end of the day, the best diet isn’t the trendiest one, it’s the one that fits your life, fuels your body, and doesn’t feel like a punishment. That’s when real change happens. I hope you liked this article, please subscribe to my blog if you do and check me out on X @SigmaMeUp.
