How to Survive a 36-Hour Fast Without Losing Friends or Freedom

I’m the first to admit when I’m hangry. You do not want to be the driver who cuts me off on a mountain road in my Jeep Cherokee Trailhawk after I’ve hiked a 10K and it’s well past lunchtime. You’ll see my middle finger faster than you can say, “This is why Jesus fasted in the wilderness alone.”

As a hiking guide in Big Bear Lake, California, I may hike twelve miles with clients before noon on a random Tuesday, so by lunch I can be ravenous. And yet I keep doing a weekly 36-hour fast because I believe in autophagy, reducing inflammation, brain health—all the glamorous wellness promises that make hunger and suffering sound upscale. Still, by hour twenty, I’m often pacing the house muttering things like, Improved cardio-muscularity, my ass.

If you’re searching how to survive a 36-hour fast, let me be honest: this is not exactly a spa retreat with electrolytes.

Kate Moss once said nothing tastes as good as skinny feels. That woman has clearly never had Lamb Kabobs dripping in my Lemon Garlic Aioli.

Fasting Tips for Beginners—For People Who Thought This Would Be Easier

I’ve been doing this 36-hour fasting once a week for months, and I’d love to tell you it gets easier. But it does not. You simply become more familiar with your own dramatic tendencies. Here is my food bloggers’ beginner’s guide to not eating like a professional for 36 hours. Put down the log of goat cheese. It’s going to be okay. That wedge of brie will still be waiting for you on Tuesday, and your favorite pants may fit again!

A 36-hour fast is sometimes called a “Monk Fast,” which I assume is because you need monk-level restraint not to say something rude to one of the protesters freezing in the April mountain wind in their kaftans on “Freedom Corner” at hour 20. Or probably rolling your eyes at one of your more liberal relatives’ constant rantings.

Get Your Supplies Before the Fasting Olympics Begin

First rule: do not grocery shop on a fasting day. I’m serious. Do not wander into Costco in a weakened state and think you have the willpower to stroll past cheese samples and rotisserie chickens. That is how people make bad decisions.

Buy groceries the day before. Stock up on avocados, toilet paper, dog food—whatever could cause a household emergency. Your dog may look starved every day, but that’s just performance art. He does not need to join your fasting protocol because you forgot kibble.

And avoid doomscrolling food content. This is not the day to open Instagram and let the algorithm assault you with bacon reels. Read a book. Play Scrabble. Throw the ball for the dog until your stomach stops acting like it’s negotiating hostage terms. Distraction is half the battle.

Tea, But Make It Weight-Loss Propaganda

Find the most delicious teas you can get your hands on, because during a 36-hour fast, hot leaf water starts taking on the glamour of craft cocktails. I kept reading on the internet that Yerba mate is the Ozempic of teas and supposedly helps crush hunger pains. Honestly? That may be fake news.

Two cups of Yerba Mate later, I still want a protein burger—now I just want one while highly caffeinated.

Hour 18: Dreaming of holding a cheese plate again

Still, if you have a 36-hour fast planned, I fully support stocking up on the boujiest teas you can find and pretending you’re sipping mojitos instead of conducting a controlled experiment in self-denial. Pour it over ice, add a squeeze of lime, lie to yourself a little. This is survival.

Yerba Mate may, in fact, be the Hunger Games support beverage. You get all the delusion of lunch, none of the calories. It’s basically Ozempic, except it comes in a teabag and was recommended by people on the internet, whom I do not fully trust—a sentence that should concern all of us.

And yet…I keep drinking it.

Maybe because fasting requires ritual. Maybe because holding a warm mug gives your hands something to do besides reach for cheese.

Now, sure, black coffee can suppress appetite, but drink too much of it and suddenly you’re hungry and irritable, which feels like an unnecessary escalation. And let me be honest: I prefer my coffee with cream. Black coffee as a hunger-management strategy feels less like wellness and more like a personal insult to my growling stomach. If I’m already skipping meals, must my coffee suffer too? That feels punitive.

Honestly, half of fasting is a creative delusion. Give me fancy tea, mild delusion, and the comforting belief that Yerba Mate is doing something profound while I sit there fantasizing about protein burgers. That, friends, is fasting.

Water helps more than people realize. Drink ridiculous amounts of it. Convince your stomach it is full, even if it’s just full of optimism and H2O. Yes, you’ll spend the day running to the bathroom. Build that into the plan.

Electrolytes help, too, though I dislike most powdered mixes. Many taste like citrus-flavored drywall. But by hour thirty, I’m willing to pretend anything salty is a margarita. Standards drop.

Keep Busy, But Don’t Start Training for the Olympics

One of my biggest long-fast survival tips is simply this: stay occupied. Not with CrossFit. Not with punishing cardio. This is not the day to run a 10K and test whether your personality can survive protein deprivation.

Walk the dog. Do some light chores. Iron the stack of clothes you’ve been pretending not to see. If it’s summer, go kayaking on the lake and enjoy that fresh mountain air.

Just maybe don’t do burpees while fantasizing about Carl’s Jr. That’s less wellness and more psychological warfare.

Use Vanity If Necessary. I Said What I Said.

And if all else fails? Put on your cutest bikini. Look in the mirror. Admire the collarbones. Think about how your favorite jeans might button more easily tomorrow.

I never said fasting was spiritual. Sometimes it’s just petty. And petty can be surprisingly motivating.

If you’re new to fasting, start slow. Use these fasting tips for beginners, take the long fast survival tips seriously, and understand that a 36-hour fast is less about heroic discipline and more about managing your own dramatic impulses.

Hydrate.

Drink tea.

By hour 33, I’m usually as hungry as these cats.

Stay distracted.

Avoid Costco.

And remember: by hour thirty-four, you are not dying.

You are simply very, very hungry.

There is a difference.

And when you break the fast, make it something glorious. Preferably involving Indian food.

Comments

    1. Post
      Author
      Amber Woods

      It’s so difficult! Especially as a food blogger, lol. I just think about what I’m going to eat tomorrow the whole time

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