∑Myself
Growing up, I developed poor eating habits. I only ate when I was hungry. Food was not an important aspect of my life. As I got older, this situation worsened. I didn’t understand nutrition well. My approach to food was simple: eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. This continued until my late 20s, when my body sent me a wake-up call. At nearly 30 pounds overweight, I suffered a severe gout attack. The immense pain in my joints and the constant fatigue pushed me to make a change. Thus began a 20-year journey of experimenting with nearly every diet imaginable—from juice cleanses to the carnivore diet, ketogenic meal plans to intermittent fasting. I was searching for what truly worked for my body.
Understanding My Body: The Mesomorph Experience
I consider myself a mesomorph. I have a slender build, neither too skinny nor too fat. I played a lot of sports in high school. Working out at an early age kept my body in good shape. My mission wasn’t just about looking better; it was about understanding how food impacted my health. I wanted to feel strong and energized again. Most importantly, I aimed to lose weight to a healthy level.
Over two decades of trial and error have taught me that dieting is never as simple as trends suggest. There is no universal "best" diet. What works for one person may fail for another. The breakthrough for me came when I stopped chasing quick fixes. Instead, I learned how my body uniquely responds to food.
In this article, I’ll share the ups and downs of my journey. I will discuss the diets that didn’t work and the approach that finally helped me lose the extra weight. It’s not about strict rules or fleeting trends. It’s 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 genetically inclined toward muscle, I initially accepted this rhetoric without question. Like many, I was tempted by quick fixes. The overwhelming volume of conflicting information left me confused. Some swore by the benefits of juicing, while others advocated for a meat-only diet. Navigating the maze of nutritional dogma felt risky, with every choice leading to either success or failure.
My journey through dietary trends included vibrant but unsustainable juice fasts, the primal intensity of carnivore eating, and the strategic timing of intermittent fasting. Each became a personal experiment. It taught me valuable lessons about how my body responds. The biggest revelation wasn’t about finding a single ideal diet. It was understanding that human physiology varies significantly. What benefits one person might do little or harm another. Over time, my pursuit of a lean physique evolved into a quest for self-understanding—a desire to decode my body’s unique language.
Juice Diets: A Deceptive Promise
Drawn by promises of detoxification and rapid weight loss, I dove into juice cleanses enthusiastically. I envisioned vibrant, nutrient-packed elixirs flooding my system and purging toxins. I meticulously researched recipes, invested in a high-powered juicer, and stocked my fridge with mountains of organic produce. I focused on kale, beets, ginger, and brightly colored fruits. My juice fasts typically lasted three to seven days—a self-imposed purification ritual for a "clean slate."
The first few days brought a mix of deprivation and fleeting euphoria. I felt lighter. The scale showed rapid drops in weight, though I later realized this was mostly water loss. My energy levels swung wildly; some mornings I felt clear and focused, while other days I slumped in a fog, growling stomachs despite the constant stream of liquid calories. Mood swings became unavoidable. Without regular meals, irritability crept in. My thoughts fixated on the next gulp of juice.
Socially, the cleanse was isolating. Shared meals became awkward explanations, met with raised eyebrows. Friends would ask, "You’re only drinking what?" I often sipped my fifth celery-kale concoction of the day. Beyond the mental and social strain, the physical aspects were undeniable.
Juicing lacks protein, a non-negotiable for anyone, especially someone like me, who values muscle retention. While fruits and vegetables offer vitamins and antioxidants, without adequate protein, my body began to cannibalize muscle for fuel. Fiber was another casualty; stripped away in the juicing process, its absence left me perpetually unsatisfied. This helped me realize the importance of protein.
Financially, juicing was unsustainable. I insisted on organic produce, and my grocery bills soared. It took pounds of vegetables to yield just one bottle of juice. Some weeks, I spent $300-$400 on fruits and vegetables. And when I reintroduced solid food, initial "progress" quickly reversed. The weight returned, along with frustration. I had mistaken temporary water weight loss for real, lasting change.
The Takeaway: Whole Foods Over Juice
While I still believe a short 2-3 week juice reset can be useful—a "clean slate" for some—it’s no long-term solution. What I once thought was detoxification was actually deprivation. True nourishment comes 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: A Primal Shift
Seeking a stark contrast to juicing, I was drawn to the primal intensity of the carnivore diet. The premise? Eat only animal products. Eliminating all plant-based foods felt radical. It stripped away dietary complexities, focusing solely on animal protein and fat. My motivations mixed curiosity and a desire to tap into ancestral eating, hoping to shed stubborn belly fat.
My carnivore experiment centered on beef, supplemented with pork, chicken, and occasionally fish. Seasoning was minimal—often just salt. The initial transition was challenging; my digestive system needed time to adapt. After a few days, I noticed a significant increase in satiety. High protein and fat kept me full for extended periods, reducing cravings. I felt the energy stabilize, and mental clarity improved.
Physically, I experienced some initial fat loss. The simplicity of the diet was both a benefit and a drawback. Meal preparation became easy, but the lack of variety quickly became monotonous. Social eating was challenging, requiring planning and sometimes feeling isolating.
The carnivore diet, while providing a unique perspective on satiety, raised concerns about long-term nutrient deficiencies and potential cardiovascular health impacts. I appreciated its sustained energy and reduced cravings; however, the restrictive nature felt unsustainable. This experiment showed me the power of protein in managing hunger but also highlighted the essential intake of vitamins, minerals, and fiber from a variety of foods.
My Keto Phase: A Structured Approach
Next, I explored the keto diet, focusing on metabolic efficiency. The core principle? Shift the body into ketosis by reducing carbs, increasing healthy fats, and moderating protein. This approach resonated with my goal of optimizing fat burning and energy levels. The emphasis on whole, unprocessed foods aligned with my desire for results-driven eating.
Starting my keto journey required a grocery overhaul and meal planning. I embraced cooking with rich, satisfying ingredients. I experimented with recipes featuring avocado, coconut oil, and grass-fed butter. I enjoyed the energy and mental clarity that came with ketosis. The reduction in cravings for sugar and refined carbs was liberating. My digestion improved, and I noticed fewer energy crashes compared to higher-carb diets.
I initially experienced rapid weight loss from water, followed by consistent body fat reduction. However, stubborn belly fat persisted. Keto's strict carb limitations helped control insulin spikes and reduce inflammation. I valued satisfying meals without constant hunger.
That said, I found some aspects of keto restrictive, especially in social situations where carb-heavy foods dominated. Tracking macros and staying under 20 grams of net carbs required effort. Occasionally, I missed the flexibility of freely eating fruits and some vegetables. My keto phase taught me about fat adaptation and how profoundly sugar and refined carbs impacted my energy levels. It gave me an appreciation for metabolic flexibility.
Intermittent Fasting: Timing is Key
My exploration took an intriguing turn with intermittent fasting (IF). Unlike previous diets focused on what I consumed, IF centered on when I ate. This approach felt less restrictive regarding food choices and more about strategically timing meals. The potential benefits included improved insulin sensitivity and allowing my body periods of rest from digestion.
I experimented with various IF protocols, starting with the popular 16/8 method. This involved 16 hours of fasting followed by an 8-hour eating window. I found it manageable and sustainable. Initially, fasting periods were challenging, particularly in the mornings. But my body gradually adapted. Hunger pangs disappeared after a week or two as I consumed whole, nutrient-dense foods, incorporating elements from my paleo experience.
The impact of intermittent fasting on my body composition was noticeable. While other diets yielded some weight loss, IF targeted my stubborn belly fat specifically. I saw gradual reductions in waist circumference. My energy levels improved, and mental clarity increased during fasting periods.
Intermittent fasting has become a permanent part of my life. After more than five years, I can’t imagine ever going back. My typical eating window runs from 3 PM to 8 PM, though I often finish by 5 PM. No post-meal sluggishness follows—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. Sitting back while they enjoy their meals sometimes tempts me. Recently, my son and I had a father-son day at a local diner. The aroma of pancakes and bacon was tempting. Instead of eating, I soaked up the moment and enjoyed great conversation while he dug into his plate. It’s a small sacrifice, and since we don’t eat out often, it’s worth it.
My Evolving Relationship with Food and My Body
My years of experimenting with diets have led to self-discovery. I’ve shifted away from the illusion of a "perfect" diet toward a flexible, intuitive approach. Now, I prioritize my body’s unique responses over rigid rules. I eat only whole, nutrient-dense foods as the foundation and use intermittent fasting as a tool. The most significant lesson I’ve learned is that there isn’t a magic bullet.
You won’t learn anything meaningful about your body in a month or two. Most diets require real time—six months or longer—to understand their effects. Experiment, but commit. Choose an approach you can sustain and stick with it long enough to see how your body responds. Observe, adjust, and repeat. What works for others might 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.
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