Training for a Colonoscopy Like It’s the Olympics: Fueled by Fasting & Burger Lust

You officially know you’re getting older when your Thursday morning starts with your first EKG, and your biggest concern is whether the lighting is good enough for an Insta story. Naturally, I snapped an “I’m still young, but my heart disagrees” selfie. My aunt texted, “What is happening?!” and I—ever the comedian—told her, “Oh, just wait until I post photos from my first colonoscopy.”The good news is that after two weeks of learning how to fast like a responsible forty-plus adult, my favorite skinny jeans fit again. 36-hour fast benefits start in my gently used thrifted home closet and hopefully will roll over into a healthier lifestyle. 2026 is just around the corner. 36-hour fast benefits start today!

Are you also over 45 and a responsible adult? Looking for some great colonoscopy prep tips or just curious about 36-hour fast benefits? Grab a gallon of water and some plain chicken bone broth and pull up a chair!

Why I’m Hangry, Over 40, and Fantasizing About the El Diablo Burger

Honestly, my weekly 36-hour fast is basically my training camp—my NFL Combine—

before the big event. Forget marathon prep; That was way back in my twenties! These days, my old broken body is out here pre-gaming for medical procedures like a responsible forty-plus woman aging gracefully in a country fueled entirely by fried food, TDS, GMOs, and stress.

Why We Start Colonoscopies at 45 (aka: America, We Need to Talk)

Here in the good ol’ U.S. of Processed Everything, doctors recommend women start colonoscopy screenings at age 45 because colon cancer rates have been rising, especially in younger adults.

When we’re talking 36-hour fast benefits and why early colonoscopy screening matters, let me be crystal clear: this isn’t just wellness-influencer nonsense. Early detection can literally save your life by catching polyps before they decide to turn into something far more dramatic.

I’ve seen it firsthand. My high school BFF almost didn’t make it to 36—she came terrifyingly close to floating up to the angels—but thanks to fast intervention, she’s still here, raising her kids, praising Jesus, and living her best life. Yes, with a colostomy bag, but also, you know… alive.

(Though she does live in Texas. And in the immortal words of Lucille Bluth, “I’d rather be dead in California than alive in Texas.” I didn’t say it—Lucille did. I’m just quoting greatness.)

You have to admit, RFK Jr. is kind of right. Here in the Grand Ol’ U.S. of A, we have this national diet of deep-fried Oreos, supersized sodas, mystery fake meat ingredients, and things that end in -ose, So yeah… our colons deserve a wellness check.

Would I love to buy everything organic and smugly stroll around the farmer’s market in a straw hat? Absolutely. Can I afford California rent and bougie heirloom tomatoes that cost more than my car payment? Absolutely not. So colonoscopy it is. And the prep?

When it comes down to colonoscopy prep tips, friends… the prep is the seventh circle of hell. I mean, if you are a foodie like me who does not enjoy fasting for basically two and a half days. 36-hour fast benefits better kick in soon because my Hanger is real!

Welcome to the Fasting Olympics: Colonoscopy Edition

I knew about the gallon of lemon-scented floor polish I’d have to chug like some deranged frat pledge. I knew the day before would be spent crying on the toilet, questioning every spicy food decision I’ve ever made, including that jalapeño popper moment way back in 2013.

But what they don’t tell you is that two days before, you only get clear liquids. CLEAR. 
Not pale.
Not translucent-ish.
CLEAR.

Basically, that’s 2.5 days with no actual food, meaning I am earning a merit badge in food blogger misery. Honestly, I’d better be fucking skinny after this literal shit show.

The good news? I’m somewhat prepared. I’ve had colonics—which are like the beginner mode of colon cleansing—and honestly, how bad can a colonoscopy be if they knock you out cold? My perimenopausal self would pay cash money for someone to put me to sleep for an uninterrupted hour. It might be the best nap of my decade.

Why I Fast 

36-hour fast benefits include weight loss, lower triglycerides, improved insulin resistance, reduced inflammation, and triggering autophagy, which is just a fancy word for your cells cleaning house like Marie Kondo after a double espresso. It can improve mental clarity, purge food cravings, and generally help your body function like the well-oiled machine it occasionally remembers it is.

Important note: A 36-hour fast is not for everyone, especially if you have health conditions—so ask a doctor unless your doctor is WebMD at 2 a.m. (which is a cry for help, not a medical consultation).

The first time we fasted for 36 hours, I lost six pounds that week. I’m sure because I shrunk my stomach down to a non-food blogger size. Well then, we went to Del Mar Race Track for five days and ate all the delicious foods we could find in San Diego County and maybe a few too many margaritas. Bye, bye skinny ass. When it comes to colonoscopy prep tips, mastering the art of fasting ahead of time absolutely saved me during that 48-hour window when I was one protein burger away from committing a felony.

I Fast for Health, But Mostly for the Post-Fast Burger High

This is only week two of my family doing the 36-hour fast and while, yes, technically it gets easier the second time, it’s still a struggle. And by “struggle,” I mean that by hour 20, I’m writing erotic fanfiction in my head starring a Carl’s Jr. El Diablo Protein Burger.

My Toxic Relationship With the El Diablo Protein Burger

Look, I’m a foodie. I can wax poetic about saffron risotto while roasting heirloom tomatoes like I’m auditioning for Top Chef: Big Bear Edition. But after 48 hours of fasting, I would sell one of my snow boots for a Carl’s Jr. El Diablo Protein Burger.

Wrapped in lettuce.
Stuffed with cheese sauce.
Topped with bacon and jalapeño poppers.

Is it classy? Absolutely not.
Is it delicious? You bet it is.
Is this ski town overflowing with gourmet options? You know it isn’t. So yes, maybe you will find me normally in the Carl’s Jr drive-thru a few times a week.

My biggest foodie secret is that my deepest fantasy is not bougie Erewhon salads—it’s aggressively spicy lettuce-wrapped fast-food burgers. The foodie elites can judge me from their $32 kombucha towers all they want. I’m out here living my best keto life.

While it may be keto-friendly, don’t ask me how many calories are in a Carl’s Jr El Diablo Burger. I really don’t want to admit it to myself.

Real Life on a 36-Hour Fast: Jeep Tours, Hunger, and Rage

Try being Big Bear Lake’s only Jeep Guide, Hiking Sherpa, and Resident Snack Goddess on an empty stomach. Try greeting tourists who ask if it’s going to snow in August?” Try smiling politely after 30 hours without food when a guest shows up 45 minutes late.

I become… how do I say this delicately?

A raging little bitch.

My stomach growls louder than my Jeep engine, and I’m out here fantasizing about protein burgers like they’re men in a romance novel. 36-hour fast benefits; you damn well better be worth it.

How to Survive a 36-Hour Fast Without Crying Into the Pantry

Drink water. When it’s time for colonoscopy prep tips, I’ll tell you, drink so much water. Gallons. Oceans. Know where the nearest bathroom is at all times.

Room temperature water chugs more easily. Ice water is for people who aren’t spiritually dying.

Keep fancy teas around—Lavender, decaf chai, something that pretends to be dessert.

Black coffee with cinnamon. Colonoscopy prep tip: You might get so hungry you’ll want to hibernate until it’s time for them to shove a camera where the sun doesn’t shine. But if you need to feel even slightly alive, a cup of black coffee will tamp down the appetite just enough to keep you from gnawing on the furniture.

Avoid Pinterest like it’s an ex-boyfriend. And also the Food Network.

Do not make eye contact with your pets, especially if you have a 25-pound Norwegian Forest Cat who moans about hunger 24/7. You will relate too hard and spiral.

Have some delicious bone broth on hand. I’m not embarrassed to admit that for the whole first day of the fast, I consumed many cups of the bone broth I make for my dog. I have to tell you, that bitch is eating well! I can’t believe how good that bone broth tasted and I was not even able to add anything extra to it, like fish sauce or Sriracha!

Expect to feel like you have the flu when you break the fast. It’s normal. You’ll feel amazing the next day.

What No One Warns You About Before Your First Colonoscopy

First rule of colonoscopy prep: do not—I repeat, do NOT—dump that sad little lemon–Pledge-flavored packet into your GoLYTELY until you’ve tasted it plain. There is absolutely no reason to punish yourself with artificial citrus cleaner unless you truly cannot choke it down otherwise.

And then there’s the chafing. Yes, your backside will feel like it’s auditioning for a wildfire reenactment. Stock up on baby wipes, and keep a vat of Vaseline or petroleum jelly within arm’s reach. Honestly? The butt burn was the worst part of the whole ordeal—even worse than spending my entire Saturday glued to the toilet with nothing but Kristi Noem’s book for company.

Love Is a Protein Burger

If you do anything in your love life, find someone who loves you even when you’re elbow-deep in a cheesy lettuce-wrapped burger you swore you weren’t going to drip on your favorite shirt. This is why I thrift shop. My boyfriend loves protein burgers as much as I do. Also, he never blinks when I order extra jalapeño poppers.

At the end of the day, fasting is great for your health, your metabolism, and—apparently—your colonoscopy prep. But let’s not pretend I’m not counting down to the exact minute I can reunite with my spicy, cheesy burger soulmate.

After surviving 65 hours of fasting, I felt I deserved an award—preferably something shaped like a giant protein burger. Shockingly, that is not how things played out.

Here’s the part no one bothered to tell me—not my surgeon, not the nurse, not even the internet trolls I usually rely on for unsolicited medical advice: after the procedure, you’re stuck on a liquid diet for two more full days. When they broke the news, I wanted to cry, but I was too blissfully sedated and dehydrated to produce a single tear.

This was especially devastating because I already had big plans. I was going to celebrate my triumphant return to solid food with a spicy Hearts of Palm Fried Rice, Chinese sausage already defrosting in the fridge like a promise. And now? Two more days before anything spicy crosses these lips? What’s a food blogger to do?

Naturally, I consulted my other doctor—Dr. Google—who claims you can have soft foods like scrambled eggs after anesthesia. Apparently, eating real food too soon might give you “major gas.” Google, sweetie… I have major gas every day. This is not breaking news.

Honestly, after over 65 hours of fasting, I’m willing to roll the dice. So yes, I will be having lobster bisque as my post-procedure snack. If the universe punishes me, so be it. I’ve been through worse… such as Lemon Pledge flavored GoLYTELY.